If only our lives were merely nothing more that what our imaginations chose to make them.
To turn them into.
To turn them into.

But, we are figments of our own conception.
We are figments of our own conception.
Together coexisting in cooperation with another to effectuate our aspirations.

Existence is life.
Existence is comprised by choices, comprised by our chorus.
You are your own diety.

She'd truth upon this conspiracy.