illusions

I understand the illusions of life. That it is at most a theatre production, the intricacies of which are similar to that of love, life and leading a nation. Each member has their role; the designers of sets transforming a twenty-foot stage into a jungle paradise, or a stately chateau where kings reside, the directors and producers adding their twist to the words of a writer, changing a thousand-told story to a new work of art, and even the audience cheering, jeering and crying at the sadness of the lives before their eyes. Each of them is as important as the last. Each of them is needed to transform the words on a piece of paper into life, and as such each of the citizens of Lemuriana are needed too; they confirm the purpose of the others. Without the baker, the welder would not eat, and without the cleaners the king’s life would be that of rubble and rubbish. So, that would mean that we, too, have roles to play. Yours was to stay, and mine to leave. I could tell you how our roles will play out, but that would ruin the story now wouldn’t it? Maybe you have already assumed that I’m the villain of this story, but maybe, just maybe you’ll start to understand at least why Kia…