Too little too much

Maybe some people are destined to be too little of one thing and too much of another.
Maybe this is all a farce and we are being string led through the show, only to not hear any clapping at the end.
Maybe the writers of the world are camouflaged narcissists, hiding behind an illusion of empathy and art.
Maybe we came here to find something, and then we crowded each other into dispersion.
Maybe the gifted ones are not.
Maybe we create false memories to give ourselves an aura of significance.
Maybe we should be sheep, hoarded in numbers, to an undisclosed destination.
Maybe the power of choice is a sophisticated chain, sparkling with fake possibility.
Maybe this is too much.
And maybe it is too little.
And maybe we will never find out.

And that is an unendurable reality.