Fuh-Sahd--- Façade. That one lucid word consists of 6 unregimented letters, separated in the middle by the French ‘c-cedilla’. Each of those letters holds their own arbitrary jurisdiction over one another, governing the motion of entity and emotions. They combine together as a whole, elegant yet nonchalant. Separated, they are uniquely individual asunder with piths. The French call the word façade, the Italians facciata; whatever the word to describe it may manifest its shape in, the meaning still remains the same- False Reality.
          In the façade that we are in part denizens of, façade comes to scope in representing the “frontal face of a building.” We use the term to describe edifices, ones of any shape, size or structure. It personifies the fore, the front, and the forward. Architects use it daily. It is in-cooperated, integrated by those Architects into “Architectnese” (the universal jargon of Architects) as a way of expressing their ever so “sophisticated dialogue” that we laymen simply have no way of understanding. All of this, what we consider to define a façade, is in actuality, a façade itself.
          I once lived in a façade. I once lived in a façade where the definition of façade was clear to me, or so I liked to believe. Whenever that word with its 6 unregimented letters, separated in the middle by the French ‘c-cedilla’ appeared before me, I would think “frontal face of a building” as a result of my rote process of learning unfamiliar words. I would ever so often use the term façade whenever the situation called upon it, describing how horrendous I found the appalling image of the front of my new school to be. I would use the term whenever I tried to sound refined or scientific. I grew fond of the word façade. I would play with the pronunciation, exploring the nuances of each word. The term was my pylon into a new realm of sophistication, but also a toran leading me deeper into my own façade.