short little writing about a monster. |
Feeling nothing but emptiness, I have wandered for years, yet never finding my place in this world. I masquerade as a human, even though I know I'm nothing but a facade. I act as if I know what it is like to feel. To hope and to dream. But the truth is, I have never experienced these sensations, or ever wanted to. All I’ve ever been able to experience is a heavy, empty void. I made a habit of penetrating other worlds, becoming so convincing that I have been another person’s friend. I always put up a show: I eat, I enjoy studying, and I seek friendship. But, I feel nothing. With no understanding of emotions or the human pattern, I repeat the same words and conversations, the same laughs and cries, in the hopes that somehow I could fit in. More than a few times, people looked right through me, trying to understand why I had a strange ability in conversations- why I seemed so artificial. It was here, in the moments of recognition, I would calmly retreat, as I had done so many times before. The worst part was, I was a monster that always told lies. I would lie to everyone I encountered, to maintain my human mask. And although it made me feel nothing, I caused many tears of anguish. The overwhelming sense of loneliness would surge my fragile nest in the dim moments of truth when my facade dissipated and I was back in my dark, formless state. I knew in these moments how brutal it was to be this thing that I was; a monster made of lies. I have betrayed many people- people who trust me, considerate people, and people that have helped me in ways too many to name. All due to me camouflaging the reality of my nature and my inability to feel anything. I am nothing but a vacant shell with little to no hope of ever becoming anything more. I no longer seek to make friends, for I know that to someone like me, compassion and love are far out of reach. I remain in solitude, alone in the dark, the monster of lies concealed from the world. |