Another day in paradise

I come here everyday, each previewing the next as some ill disguised understanding of the first. I come here without intention or rather, without the afterthought intention succumbs to. I come here bearing nothing of value because it is reinforced that what worth is rightfully so shall have tangible discourse about such tangible things that i could never possess, even once I eliminated the reality of my virtual world.
When the gathering commences, one little girl will greet those who have entered into the festivities of chance, never quite as memorable as the soft laughter that resonates from the belly of her. She will offer you an olive branch, the tendrils dancing in unison to the beat of an undeveloped mystery.
I leave here everyday, the cause of sensationalised satisfaction to undermine that very reality of worth I could not possess. A drunken lullaby of character remission by that which was never evident in here, the conjunction of rhetoric and perhaps an object of avoidance. I leave here, not so much rattled as sated by the security of self defiance.
What here may aspire to be was never as accepting of tentative interaction, the chance that some unidentified version of a true reality might come along and create a desire for something less left to chance.