Confusion is the dawn, when neither the moon nor the sun can decide which one should rule the sky.
Confusion is the ocean’s current, in its torrent of fury prior to slapping the shore.
Confusion is the snowflake that is pulled by the wind only to reach the ground when its journey is complete.
Confusion is the accumulation of noises; the beating of a heart, the vigorous pressure on the typewriter, the turn of another page.
Confusion is the crowd, in which each person attempts to move in their own direction, however, unsuccessful still as they shove through.
Confusion is the misleading and unnecessary persuasion of one’s desires.
Confusion is not being straight forward, imagining the various situations which could hold true.
Confusion is the lack of knowledge about subjects, about surroundings, about the feelings of others.
Confusion is the misinterpretation that stabs you in the abdomen as you inhale your first gasp of truth.