Reality Is A Sixteen Wheeler Truck.

What if it's all in my head?

The truth is that we're all humans. We live, we love, we forget and we drift away. No matter how strong the bonds are, they will eventually rot and decay, consumed by the tides of time. So why do I still hold on to it as if it will never die?

I don't know. Isn't it the simplest answer to everything? I don't know.

Fickle creatures, aren't we. Oaths are made, meals are shared, hands are shaken in earnest and for what? Give it a little time, a little distance, a little difficulty and the cracks appear. The structural integrity is lost, the glue loses its strength, the nails rust, the ropes snap and it's all only natural if you agree with the fact that everything will be destroyed eventually. If you hold on the structure though; if you make it your home, your nesting grounds, your pillar of strength, your base of logic... Obviously, you are fucked. Utterly, completely, verily fucked.

Which sucks, oh yes. But the world cares not about you. It goes on revolving, oblivious to your confusion. Did you not matter? At all? Were you not the slightest bit important? At least someone would realise your plight, you argue.

Then you realise with such startling intensity that no, there is no one. You only think there is. You held on to that lie you told yourself for so long that you started to believe in it. What about that guy who was your best friend? Wait, you haven't talked to him for how many years now. Well, there's always the other girl who used to cheer you up. No, she quit being your babysitter after you told her that she acted like a whore. What about... What about... What about?

And you see all those people. They who tried so hard and for so long to try to get your attention. They who dug into the metal walls of your heart with their bare hands, breaking nails and bone and bleeding to no avail when all you needed to do was to open the gates and let them in. But, no. You let them go on and on and sometimes you even gave them false promises so that they try doubly hard. You gained some sort of satisfaction out of it and you pressed them on until eventually they spent everything they had and they leave. Your walls stood as high as ever, stained with their blood and they; they happy, hearty bunch left with bitterness in their hearts. You turned them into clones of yourself and they will look into the mirror and get torn when they see what they have become.

But they can recover. After years and years, they will return to who they were once. They will not make the same mistake again, however. Deep inside them, there still exist a hatred so dark and so powerful and it is directed to no other but you.

You think: Perhaps I should change. And you try and you succeed. You become the beacon of light in darkness and you attract people once more and you are happy. But you still hear the whispering. It laughs at you because it knows that you cannot stay as you are. You will come back, it says. You brush it off, you're happy now, aren't you? Why would you go back to being that miserable person who's only friends with the dark?

Until you realise that you hate these people around you. The fake smiles, the brown nosing, the yes-men, the materialistic cunts... And you knew the voice was non-other than your own, alert at what was happening. So you duly close the gates once again and you lock it a million times over. The cycle goes on but do you still derive any pleasure from it?

Maybe a person might come forward. The one that you've always dreamed of. Intelligent, outspoken, all the great traits packed into one package. Maybe many have come forth. It doesn't matter in the slightest. You've already forgotten how to differentiate one from the other.