How to decide

How do you decide,
whether the dream or it
is a nightmare?
That paradox of balding,
or the school burning!
Was it arson or anarchy,
was my head balding or going bald. . .
I know only.
But I did dream.
That I know.
I know only - not.
All I know is I do not have certainty.
All I know is I do have a free will.
All I know is I am limited by necessity.
Those are all metaphors of my real life reality.
That tiny spec of light,
that heals me within.
Within me I can see.
I can see;
I can see a light.
I can see,
a law as I can see it is a law within me.
A law is written that I can see.
A law is written that I can have,
that I can see.
That I can see a law is written within me.
It is the law written for me -
"This law is written for being you."
That I am being in front of,
internal noises,
making sounds the external world cannot
- see
or -
- hear.
That tiny, miniscule, insignificant. . .
margin of error.
There are only mistakes that make room.
The room is filled with being mistaked with reason,
or without.
Only errors are formed.
To be corrected into being.
But some,
forget that.
There are rooms,
that are are rooms built
for margins of error.
That I have not been marginalized,
for my sense of being or belonging.
For I have belonged as a identity,
the law is written inside of me.
More specifically Portuguese I am.
Most Luso-Canadians failed - but me.
But not I have failed.
I understand the light,
that speaks to me in law.
My nature of health demanded.
The law that I can see written inside of me.
From the law that says,
"This is law required that you can see it."
My importance of being observed.
That there,
I can see no omission of my characteristics
all things attributed to me through law -
that I can see me.
I walked.
And walked.
And I walked.
The line.