Tales of Paper & Pen

Perception is super liminal as it lies beyond what we are consciously aware of. In other words, an absolute belief is ingrained into our minds that the world is the way it is without us ever knowing when or why.

My reality is a cruel one. As if abandoned, my world is silent, yet the unheard voices that are present in every being continue to cry out without end. A tree stands tall within the depths of my mind; its leaves dyed red not by blood but by sin.

My sin, according to my world, is existence itself. I exist not as a result of mistakes or accidents, but as an entity that defies the natural order unconsciously. I’ve never even entertained the idea of my existence being purposeful. Although those of brighter worldviews might see it as unfair, my experiences say otherwise.

Salvation? What an unfamiliar sound. I have no light that shines directly on my world, only filtered and reflected light, as if my world is of secondary or tertiary value.

Even with all the years I’ve been here, no life has ever bloomed. The only exception is the Tree of Sin, which always seems to reinforce the belief that I am not Me.

Though, what many are unaware of is the fact that realities can be altered, albeit only within one’s mind. However, that alteration within one’s mind will always have an indirect impact on the physical plane as well.

I remember telling her a story of how I dined with death, a gentle yet sly man. Of course, she didn’t believe me at first, which was only a natural response. How could one partake in pleasantries with a being that is no being at all. Death as an entity? What preposterous self-delusion!

 Yet what if I told you that it took but a single look, a single expression of sobriety, to overturn her ridicule. Those eyes that are incapable of ever being forgotten stared at me with an understanding no one else could ever replicate with sincerity. Her words went something like this: “Snap out of it. You’re kinda scaring me.”

Did you expect some sort of advice? Words of wisdom? Maybe a message of inspiration? What sort of stupidity did you contract? A philosophy is but a means to an end. They allow us to perceive the world in so many different ways, yet they don’t provide us money, nor food and water, nor a partner for life. It is action that grants our wishes.

My fancy words were nothing more than a ploy to capture you and turn you into my sweet, little pawn. This is no story of redemption nor love. These words are only here to bring you back to reality, my dear, naive reader.