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Reality

Hey there.

You see that girl in the corner over there? The one who dresses like a rocker and acts like a hippie? She’s fighting with me right now because she doesn’t want to hurt you. Don’t walk over there, just leave her alone. She can never win against me.

We haven’t met yet, have we? I know who you are, but allow me to introduce myself. I’m the one who causes that girl to cry at night. She hates me, but needs me. Everyone needs a bit of me; it’s what gets us through, even though we don’t want it.

You know those tears that soak your shirt like poison, seeping down to your bones? Not to brag but… that was my fault. Those, and her lack of reasoning. She can’t hold her tongue when I have control. She knows what she should and shouldn’t say, but she can’t help it. Her words can hurt but just remember- that’s still my fault. Sometimes, when I’m really feeling up for it, I pressure her into telling you what’s on her mind. That’s when I break your heart.

When this happens, it’s like I’m grabbing her heart in my fist, squeezing it, shaking it and throwing it out the widow where it falls down into a damp, dark, and diseased manhole. But who cares? That’s just how I do things.

Wanna know the best part about this? I can make you want to hate her. You’ll be mad and upset all because of me! Hahaha, I love this! You can’t even deny the truth in her words, even if they sting like razorblades. You can’t take any credit for her pain, her misery, everything she has to live with, either. It’s all me!

So the next time she’s yelling at you, or crying, or reminding you of good times that have passed, think of me. Oh yeah… my name?

Reality.



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