I thought it was always strange the way they looked at me.
Their glassy and their cold and unyielding eyes... it’s as if... as if it was planned all along.
I walk the crowded streets and through an ocean of people going about their daily lives. And I see... I see nothing.
Nothingness.
It’s as if I was caught in between, almost as if I was living two different worlds at the same time. The plurality is uncanny, like an underhanded agreement unbeknownst to me. A surreptitious affair between variables from opposite ends of the spectrum. A manifestation of an abnormality in perception. A palpable sense of confusion or uncertainty - it didn’t really matter.
Because what really matters is how I cope with it. What matters is how I tread both paths with an almost forced feeling of certainty, whilst trudging with prudence and denied circumspection. I am forced to believe what is unreal. Coerced to accept what society feeds me. Constrained to see through the window that they had made for me. Compelled to consume the malevolence of the world, and exude the same cold and unyielding facade that their connivance had masterfully orchestrated.
I walk the crowded streets and through an ocean of people going about their daily lives.
The nothingness... the nothingness flourishes.
