...if all we are is what we symbolize...
the sleeper awakes, rubs his eyes and begins to percieve. first there are no symbols, just color and sound. form is a meaningless thing until he can wrap his hands around it taste it smell it. then the symbols work their way in, giving angles and definition, never again to look at a word and not read it, just see color. symbols portray what can be conveyed only in concept, never touched or tasted, his hand shall never grasp what is love or what is death. self doubt makes its way in as the knowledge that others percieve and form ideas about his being. perception piles on imagined perception as this abstract idea of society wraps him up in itself. 'i percieve this about her perception of my perception of her' no longer can his guides show him the way, create symbols for his eyes, he must build his own or accept those that suround him. seeing the illusions that he has embraced and the insubstantial nature of that which all base their symbolic meanings upon. his entanglement and his survival requires him to succumb to the illusions created by a perception woven society. through fighting, creating his own symbols, his own illusions, wanting to be real, wanting to wrap his hands around an idea, to put his lips to it and taste it. he succeeds, create a symbol of his own, but discovers those symbols meaningless to all but him are denied existence and return to meaninglessness or insanity. so he breaks, allows the fabric to entwine him once more as he accepts their illusions and becomes part of the cloth.