Fear is the ultimate deceiver

I should have known. There was never a greater plan, no deeper meaning. There was only me. I was, I am, the master, the servant, the victim, the executioner. I was the origin of every wrong deed, of every twisted thought and every single distortion. They were mine.

As i lay there in my quiet restlessness, not once did i question the resolutions with had so carefully been planted in the confines of my mind. The plan had been layed out, the culprit identified, and the extent of the damage...carefully hidden. Wrongful perfection. Like preparing the weapon wich would eventually be the instrument of your own demise. Blissfully unnaware.

There were moments of clarity. Almost too brief to acknowledge, but they did take form. In those moments i could see a shadow of myself, and i knew what needed to be done. But comfort was too high a price to pay, even for a long awaited conclusion.

It was my oxygen, my beating heart, my elixir. When the air became thick and my lungs were rigid, no living being could hold me to this world. I yearned to be elsewhere, to live elsewhere. I yearned for a freedom i could not have. A freedom wich only existed in my dreams or, as i prefer to call them, my delusions. There was no other choice but to run, even as my feet stayed rooted to the ground. I would escape by imprisoning myself.

Survival. This desperate, irrational, instinctive need to live and breathe at any cost. That was the decisive factor. It was the final blow. It made no sense then, nothing did. But i followed through the darkest path in hopes that its course would find me home, would fly me home, would give me sense where i had none.

There was no guiding light, or sun, or northern star as i carried on struggling through endless night. Alone, lonely, isolated, stranded, deserted, desolate. Could i be blamed? How many others had been sent to conquer life so unprepared, so unfairly? I clung to every thought with a strength beyond my own. There was truth in every single one of them, i knew as much. What did it matter where they came from, what did it matter where they lead to? They were mine. Everything else was my enemy. I would not turn back. Stubborn.

Awakening. To find an empty hole where your life used to be. The dreadful discovery that these resolutions you were so faithfully persuing were nothing but air and smoke and dream. To open your eyes and find that the sun was shining at last upon your path, and it lead nowhere. Dead end. Destruction. Turn back? Start over? I was given two options from the day my life became my own, i chose the one wich offered immediate relief. Willingly, gladly ignoring every glimpse of the truth that was shown to me along the way. I chose not to fight, I felt too weak for such a battle. Naive. Years and years spent stumbling through the darkness in search of a way out. My eyes were shut. Glimpses of honesty, given to me from blinking moments of almost accepting. Countless days of clutching at illusions with a strength i did not recognize. The strength was my own. Such little faith, such fragile trust. The means to conquer life were given to me from the moment i fist drew breath, they were mine. Fear is the ultimate deceiver. My eyes are open now, and i see in myself all i had dismissed as lacking. I am no longer laying, no longer restless or quiet. There is a long way ahead of me, back to the beginning. How much time has been lost? No more. I choose to fight. I choose to live, as I should have done all along. I should have known.