There is a world that never was. It never existed, never breathed life, never appeared for all to see or experience. That world was for me and for me alone. That world was my life.

Looking back and thinking about it now, it was just a dream. It was just a figment of my imagination. Nothing was real. Nothing was true. All was just a facade to make me feel that I was a part of something. After lifting the curtain to expose this world as nothing, it is disheartening. I no longer belong to any place. I no longer belong.

Oh this world seemed so perfect. There I had friends, there I was somebody. I was that really really nice quiet alienated child that became good friends with people. Sure I didn’t have a large group of friends to hang out with or know many acquaintances, but I had friends. I was smart, I was simple, living a complicated simpleton life wanting nothing more than happiness and actually having it. There, people would laugh at me cause I was just that funny and I was actually interesting. People actually wanted to hear what I had to say or wanted to listen to the stories I would tell and I would capture them in my little spell. There I was somebody.

Now, I’m all alone. Everything that I wanted to be, that I was there, just withered away. Everything is just a lie. It was all made up, not in my mind, but in another’s. Oh, to be back in that world again. To be that lie again.

But I can’t go back. I can never go back, because there is nothing to go back to. That was a lie, no, not a lie, a misconception of who I was. I believed myself to be all those things because that is what I wanted to be, that is what I was told to be. So I kept that story alive in my imagination, I kept that fairy tale going the way they were supposed to go. The story played out and it was a happy one.

What happened? What happened to this world? Why was I ripped away from this fairy tale existence? I woke up. I woke up and opened my eyes. I looked around and see that nothing has changed. Nothing has changed from that world to this world. I woke up and realized that I was living a lie, a lie I can no longer keep up. The fairy tale is of the Brothers Grimm variety. It isn’t those childhood fairy tales that we are all grew up with.

I woke up and realize that I am living in the fairy tale of life. This fairy tale story is everything that it should be. This fairy tale is what is really happening. I realized that everything that happened in my life, everyone’s perception of me is a glorified good character that I can never live up to.

I am flawed and fractured, broken into schizophrenic bits and parts that it is hard to tell what I am, who I am. I am nothing and everything. I am always and never. I am the contradiction that everyone denies in themselves. I am doubt. I am certainty. I am life.

This is life that I am living. This is a life in the real world. I am every average man you would see walking down the street looking around and experiencing things as if they were old. I am a man who is so weary of life that there seems to be nothing in it that surprises me anymore. I am every cynic in the world, I am every optimist in the world, I am everyone.

Blink. Life passes me by. Blink. Life passes me by. Blink….Life goes on. Life goes on and never stops. There is life revolving everywhere around me. This bird, this plant, this little ant, this little flea, this molecule, this atom. All life. All go on as time ticks it’s meticulous rhythm.

Looking at where I am now and realizing that my old life in that world that never was was all a lie, I can’t go back. I don’t want to go back. I want to be me, this flawed creature that no one pities cause everyone is too busy pitying themselves. I enjoy my flaws, I enjoy my loneliness, I enjoy this new exuberance of knowledge, I enjoy this life.

That old life was too stifling. That old life was too strict, too bland, too fake. That old life was all a lie conjured up by someone who was too afraid to live. That old life was bits and pieces of someone’s imagination; someone who only wanted the good and not the bad of me. It was the delusion of someone who doesn’t know or see me at all. Some one who doesn’t really see.