Human, evolved.

If my fiction is to reflect reality, why do I even bother to write it? Is a second-rate version of reality so cherished by humans? Or would it make way more sense to let reality be? But with the highly developed brain due to evolution, the concept of reality has got warped. And fiction has become necessary to give reality a meaning! How can man live with such a paradox throbbing through his veins, for every second of his life?

The very essence of being human is to not comprehend, accept and live reality as it comes. Not to live in the present is human, evolved.