The beach was empty today. I had it all to myself. I needed it.
The world had turned inside out, and it was all my own fault. Too fitting that I stopped here to work it all out.
Had I never met my kahuna-shaman-kapua, I'd never have known. Or if I thought these teachings to be all bunk, then I could have gone on as before.
I probably could have been rich by now. Too many people have been telling me that this is so. All those books I've read, the stories I'd uncovered for myself.
Like there were two paths here: One - reality is arduous, you are alone, most everything is separate from you and against you (or at least working in cross-odds across your path); Two - reality is simple, you are with and part of everyone and everything, all are here to give you a lesson or help you solve a puzzle, you are responsible for creating everything that happens to you.
But there was one trick: everything was just as it was before, only now you know.
It was the red pill, blue pill problem.
The problem was, once you found out, was there really a "going back"? Or would you really always suspect - if only in the furthest corner of your mind - that what you had uncovered was true?
Of course, as usual, the waves murmured on the beach, the trees overhead whispered the breezes songs, and the birds kept an odd accompanying beat as they circled above and sometimes plummeted to surface with a fish - or not.
Life was easy in this dream.
As it was in most dreams.