I want to move. I want to take flight. Get me out of this mundane city and drop me into a town of mysteries.
I thought that I wanted structure, but what I truly desired was mobility. I believed that through developing a sturdy structure I would be able to increase my chances of travel, of excitement, and of happiness. So for years I have fought for, dreamed for, and cried for this structure to arise. And I was happy when it finally came to being, but it evolved from my foundation to my mirage. A mirage which tricks me to be complacent, wrapping velvet shackles onto my wrists, and feeding on my creativity, my bravery, my curiosity, my humanity to increase its own hypnotic powers.
I want to forsake this false oasis. But I am afraid it is too late. The shadows have devoured my mind and left me as a simpleton who relies on ritual and routine to keep time moving.
It is important to let the days and years go by, for with it comes hope. I become intoxicated with thoughts of "Perhaps tomorrow will be different. Yes! Tomorrow does not have to end like today". But again, this is the perfect trick of the oasis. There is no such thing as hope here. The crows ate hope yesterday.
It is rare for someone to fall this far and find a way out of the mirage's sweet and warm darkness. One must be strong enough to rewire the mind, build up the body, and to convince one's self that the decision to runaway into the electric unknown is a sane one.
Do I dare try to escape?
