who's pulling my strings?

My dreams are unique

           ~ yet I know ~

                     that others have similar visions

                                drifting through their unconscious mind
                                         

I see what I see

           ~ yet I can never really see me ~

                     a mirror can't reflect my exact image

                               nor can a photograph show

                                                      what I really look like.
What if

           ~ I look different ~

                     to what I perceive myself to be
                               Do I see through my eyes or eyes

                                       that have been trained by my brain

                                                  to view things in a different way?

My thoughts are my own

           ~ yet I know ~

                     I am not the first person

                                  to think this way

My words fall from my lips

           ~ cascading down from my brain ~

                     Am I repeating what others have said 

                                or are these words pure?

If they're pure

           ~ entirely my own thoughts ~

                     then why do I feel deja vu

                                when I utter these singular words

                                           encased in something called a sentence

Whatever I might see or read

           ~ becomes indelibly printed in my brain ~

                     Perhaps when I seek to grasp a concept

                                or try to express my feelings

                                          I am commiting unconcious fraud!

I take the offerings of my brain

           ~ sent from synapse to synapse ~

                     connecting me to the well that is

                                the sum of my years and experience.

I find it so amazing how someone

           ~ halfway across the world ~

                     thinks the same way I do

                                ~ how can that be?

Different upbringing

           ~ different cultures ~

                     tied up in the same thoughts.

                                Am I not separate from these strangers?

Are my thoughts my own

           ~ have they been passed down to me ~

                     subliminally seeping into my grey matter

                               absorbed in an instant

                                          as I blink in a moment of nothing-ness

What is nothing-ness

           ~ is it when I am separated ~

                     from other people 

                                ~ from thought? ~

                                          are we all bits of nothing-ness

                                                    floating in a sea of confusion?

Perhaps a puppeteer is pulling my strings

           ~ arranging my life ~

                     pointing which direction I should go

                                manipulating me

                                           ~ or am I all there is?

When I use spell check

           ~ who am I deferring to? ~

                     the 'God' of the so called proper way

                                 to spell and write 

                                             ~ correct grammar ~

                                                       or is it too flawed?

Am I the only true thing in life

           ~inasmuch as ~

                      the only certainty I know

                                 is that I exist ~ or do I?

                 Imperfect Perfection?