Paradoxical Surreal

There are certainly facets of the great there is that seem paradoxical.

How can one be:

timeless,

weightless,

ethereal,

but material,

while still being the dreamer of dreams?

But it all felt so real...

but by God, it was just a dream?

It had just become rote.

Smoke and mirror did lose their relevance.

The metaphysical obfuscation resulted in existential provocation.

Mistakes were made and people played.

And as immaterial and for real the dream was the price was paid,

my bed was made.

And suddenly, it all fell down,

Jenga,

and there was no more,

no more..