Before anything else, before you enter into a world of words that needs to be deciphered, understand that it is not my intention to write something like this again. I want to stop feeding other people's monsters. I want to stop pushing people toward the void. But right now I am drifting farther and farther away from reality. The pen and paper which I use are now owned by a coward who can't face reality...and so, again, I apologize.
...
I woke up to the same four corners of my bedroom. The blanket which I used to keep my body from the cold during the night now feels a bit uncomfortable. The sun is already up, and the smell of the night's wind is gone. All that's left is the bustling streets and the smell of people and machines.
The house is left to myself. There's no one left inside. Now I know what you're thinking.
"Hey, you're a person right? You count as a someone." But I beg to differ. What I said was not a grammatical error, there really is no one left inside because I do not count as a person. Actually, I do not count as anything. I am nothing. I do not exist...
Now. Let me continue. The house is quiet. There are no more people around. Everywhere I look, the shadows seem to envelop the things I see. All the curtains are laid down. The windows are closed. The doors are locked shut. Just like this, I feel like the only human being left in the world. Like I could open the door and see a world as bleak, soundless and humanless as the house right now. But that is just a dream.
I know that there is a world outside my comfort zone. Some people might even say that the real world is better and I wouldn't argue with that. Not because I believe them, but because it is tiring to explain the same things to people around me. Even if I imagined a world without everything, it still won't work. Reality would still be reality and I have to bear with it.
"So everything that makes me whole..." I played an Egoist song while eating at the ground floor of our house. I played it at full volume because God knows all our neighbors are at work by now. The food left for me was a piece of dried fish and a slice of what I imagine to be a huge scrambled egg. The spoon and fork at my hands moved slowly, very very slowly..as if time did not exist. I blame my head which never stops thinking about things and staying blank at the same time. Then as I ate the thought occured to me...that this world doesn't really care.
Things move about. The world changes. People laugh and cry. In the scheme of reality, I am but a speck of dust. I do not know how I came to this conclusion, all I am sure of is that my mind is always floating in space, with all the ideas scattered around me. At a point in time we all come to the same realization of how insignificant our life is, and at that point we come to the decision of fighting to make the best out of this life or getting sucked up by the great unknown.
Nothing actually makes sense, but this has been the clearest moment in my life. I have never been alive. I am always dead, because this life is fictional, and from the options I stated, I chose to be the latter.