Its all in your head

Nowadays I keep trying to go through the mirror in front of me

I convince myself that this is indeed reality and not some made up world like in the Matrix. When I was younger I held the fleeting hope that this was indeed a fictional world. That all that was occurring was the workings of some evil being and that soon I too would get the call from my Morpheus and that he'd ask me to help liberate humanity and life in general from this pathetic existence that we all seem destined to live in. When I was cowering in some other room while mom and the sperm donor were fighting...I'd sit by the phone...waiting...waiting for that call that would make it all go away...I should have called the cops instead. When my mom stupidly took the blame for the sperm donor when he spent all of the money the government would provide for my well being as well as my sister's...I held a fleeting hope for that call....when my mom went to jail because of this...I'd imagine that lovely call and my Morpheus's lovely voice telling me what to do to the system in order to change what had been done. When the beatings ceased when I was older and no longer a child. And the sperm donor continued to live amongst our family despite the wrongs he committed, I would still wait...wait to be awoken..liberated..freed from this wretched existence in which life was nothing but money troubles and insults and pain from mommy as well now. When I was alienated in school and found little solace due to the lack of real friends...I'd begin to convince myself that they were nothing but pawns...pawns of that evil being that I oh so wanted to defeat. "When are you going to call??"...when my eyes were opened that suffering was not only limited to me...that it was universal and in some instances a lot worse than my suffering...I'd get this giddy glee in imagining myself doing all sorts of good deeds in black leather and my AK-47....blasting the heads off the tyrants and ending the corruption that damn evil guy created all for fun...after all, it must seems like some never ending soap opera much to his amusement I'm sure. When I was plagued by the loss of my only true love and the shit got worse at home, I began to realize...that maybe Morpheus didn't want me to be apart of his liberation army. When I began to find comfort in the very machine that is helping enslave the human race (to their pathetic existence in case you forgot) by means of blogging and communication with others online because of the lack of people in the fake world that could actually make me feel better...I began to loose hope...began to realize that I was a real nobody....who would want my fucking help? When I picked up the nifty little habit that pain could be released by means of blade and rubbing alcohol...I forgot all about my mission....I had finally become what the evil bastard who enslaved the human race wanted me to become...a miserable battery...he must have thought the bloody mess was a real freak show..when I found out that I didn't need to engage in such a ritual...when I found my savior....the one who held me tight in cyberspace and held me close till the tears finally flowed...I remembered my mission...or rather my destiny...I began to convince myself that I wouldn't ever be happy till humanity was happy...I told myself that I didn't need my Morpheus..the savior that all the humans await..big mistake as I soon realized there was nothing I really could do...nothing for those starving children..for the ones that live in fear of their country and fellow country men..for the ones in pain or sufferance...the ones that feel alone and would trade it all for the warmth of someone's arms around you...nor for the animals that must succumb to the dominant species's ignorance...I began to see that life would never change...that Morpheus wasn't real...that those nifty black leather pants wouldn't have fit anyways...I was trapped.... and still am....

Nowadays I keep trying to go through the mirror in front of me....

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