Curse of Reason

I struggle with metaphors as I see things as they were and as they were ought to be, crumbling, in a fashion, terrible to say the least. Somewhere in between the loathed reality and cherished goal, all of a sudden a fissure has turned up. Something challenging, in a daunting manner, the very premises of the conscious existence. It might have been propelled by some certain recent experiences but that just is the lit match to the box, which is, as it now seems a teeming pool of unintelligible matter. Often have I come across the warnings on sharp turns, which loosely translates into, "Focus deviated is when accidents happen".