Who am I? Well when you ask that about yourself we all have an answer. Broken bits and pieces of both truths and little lies, lies created to hide things from others and from ourselves, or subconsciously fabricated to deceive our own minds to not know what we want or what we love or even what the world is. So I then ask myself how can things, fabrications of fiction, especially movies, how do they shatter the reality I look at. They break the mirror I stare into, the mirror that reflects reality back to me. At least the reality I’m told to believe in combined with the parts I believe and add in myself. Fine crystal so easily admired and so easily shattered with just the brush of a fingertip. After every movie that I actually touch in ways of all mind, soul, and feelings. I stand up and relieve myself afterwards only to find my mind elsewhere. Questioning reality, the origins, the fabric, how to live, how to be, how simply to exist. How to love and be loved, to be a hero, to stand up and yell louder than the unison of voices that shuffle together aimlessly towards one thing, Death, because we are all destined to die, and how to not just yell above them but walk against the crowd and push through the wave, not to turn back time or live forever, but to actually exist and part from the autonomous robotic society. Programmed like Tron to be one thing, to think multiple things, to love whatever pleases us, and to leave behind those who can’t or choose not fight. And yet the viruses, the one’s who “stand out” are the worst robots. They were implanted by the autonomous society to believe they are being different when reality says they are falling for the greatest gag in history. It is much more than to be different because to truly do so you have to exist without the things we need to exist. To fully separate the ties to society and step out and become the adventure, to walk forth and finally live. Too many times I question reality and now I sit here thinking: what is real? How do you exist? What do I believe in? What was the world supposed and what has it fooled itself in becoming? More and more question and then memories and thoughts and stories all arise at the same time. I fear I will be forever haunted by not just these things but everything past, present, and future until Death’s hand comes to greet me.
And yet again a cold night with familiar tear, so friendly. I haven’t cried this often or been so vulnerable since I was 8 years old. I have Maddie to thank, in light of it all she tore down my walls and now I’m just me. It’s good to be back and yet with everything it’s too bittersweet.
this is so important
My entire existence is predicated upon the fact that I will one day explode. It is the reason I was created, and the reason I live - so that I will die, hopefully taking another’s life with me. Unlike others, my being is made for killing, not living. I am nothing but a weapon - and not even a decent weapon, rarely able to do more than shrink my opponent. If I were to take my own life, I would be doing the world a great favor - for no one else would need to fear harm due to my presence.
One chance. I am given once chance to perform my duty of smashing Mario with the weight of my body. Should I succeed, I will merely reduce him from Large Mario to Smaller Mario, or (should he already be Smaller Mario) I will remove one of his many lives. However, if I should miss (and this is the far more likely scenario, as I am a bit overeager, and often drop myself before I should), he will run past me and I will be left to rot in this castle. I am incapable of lateral movement, and thus if I fail in my one task, the rest of my existence will be a Kafka-esque nightmare of nothingness. I will hover, touching the ceiling, with no reason nor ability to ever move again. I would kill myself, but I have no means by which to do so.
I don’t know why I post this shit on tumblr. It’s just a last resort. We’ll I’m done now, I’ll just keep it all locked up tight, hidden from even myself. See yah
The question isn’t if I’m miserable it’s why? So many answers to just one simple word.
How long are you going to keep lying to yourself? How strong are you to keep this up Dom? Still has the same affect on me, ah geez.
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