our hearts race, minds flutter, and we, simultaneously, drive to weed the real from the "fake."
What happens when the fictitious is real; when the real fictitious?
I look up into the sky - what is real?

What we touch...
What we smell...
What we speak...
Human beings thrive in the worlds of unknown.
Unknown to you. Unknown to me.
What is real?
Is it you; is it I?
No. No. We are all figments of imagination (with beating hearts/functioning minds).
I am the unknown.
Até mais!
-Monica
*Photo credit: Flickr
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