Come on in… if you dare.  None of your polite affectations will serve you here; leave them at the door along with the rest of your baggage.  The only thing required is a willingness to go beyond the limit, so be prepared to face your worst fears and most secret desires.

What do you mean you don’t want to go there?  If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be loitering at the door, trying to peek in.  Don’t bother.  The red corridor inside is a maze designed to fool the onlooker.  Only the ones brave enough to step over the threshold will be treated to the rapture within.

You look like a man who’s been sitting on the sidelines, only dreaming of playing the game.  I’m afraid that no amount of mental imagery will substitute for the real thing; you’ll have to man up or get out of line.  The anxious ones behind you won’t take kindly to delay.

Ah, you didn’t notice the queue.  It seems there are scads who share your sentiment, frustrated ones desperate to drop the burden of artificial existence and reclaim their rightful position among the living.  Sad creatures, really, most of whom don’t even know that their lives are a sham but will learn soon enough once they enter.

However, the door swings only one way.  The exit may leave you many miles from where you started… not a bad prospect if, after decades of living, you’re still at the starting gate.  Where would you like to go, to a place you’ve only dreamed about or to fully inhabit the one you’re in?  Anything and everything is possible here, if you’re willing to pay the entrance fee.

A small price, don’t you think, for the opportunity to be reconfigured?  Even smaller if you think of how much you’ve already paid.  The cost of remaining stationary is always higher in comparison; you just haven’t noticed because the bleedout is incremental. No respectable sycophant kills its host.

You can do that yourself.  Step inside, if your courage holds, and slay the monster.   What you do after you’ve stepped out from behind him, is your own affair.


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