therapy

» illusions

 "Our language is corrupted by our emotions," she firmly stated as she unwrapped her lunch.

"That sounds like a psychology research paper or something." I flicked a tiny leaf off my shoulder and scrunched up my eyebrows. "How in the world do I solve this?"

"Solve what?"

"A numerical problem that will never ever come up in my life ever again right after I get the diploma in my hand."

"Ah, that kind of problem. I've been getting them a lot lately myself." She gave a cheesy grin, garnished with specks of ranch dressing on the corners. "Did you know that society can be an illusion?"

"A what?"

"An illusion."

"Should I ask how?"

"I think you should."

"Is that a form of manipulation you're using on me?"

"Am I?"

"I think you are."

"Well, then it must be working. Anyway, society is consumed by laws and parallel voices that whisper letters and jumbled up vowels in order for what? To keep the structure, to have a balance between chaos and serenity? Back in the day, and I mean, way back, society told humans that to be moral, you have to be white and Christian. Just be those two and bam! You define morality. But then again, there would be criminals who identified themselves as white and Christian. And they would still be moral. Even though owning a hundred slaves and brutality hurt innocent children till they cannot even say their own name, oh—that's okay, according to society. A black man, who is educated, has a nice big house that he earned, and a family he supports from the nightmares at night to the new backpack for school—he does it all. But oh no, he can't be morally right, can he? God forbid he has a job and actual manners! I mean wh-"

"Is this from the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn?"

"No, well, I mean, so? I'm trying to say that society is just a delusional concept where one behaves under the standards of conventional ideas and just it is plainly corrupted."

"You could have said that like...five minutes ago."

"Be quiet."