DarkRedTears

I hats when I get this way. I know in a matter of hours these thoughts will be alien and obscured to me. But right now they hurt. I do not know where this, well all I can describe it as is loathing topped with pure ennui. I do not know where it comes from, why it strikes me so forcefully, so completely. "Its all a lie, your whole life is a lie." It tells me, that thought comes into my head over and over again.
It makes no sense, in all actuality, my life is not a lie, at most I am never more than facisous. But I know what it means even as I make that half hearted arguement with myself. My life is a lie simply because I can not make my own fantasies true. Oh how that hurts me. Oh how they build up in my head and mock me.
I'll never be eternal. I'll never be pretty. I'll never tell her that I don't even know if our love is real, that I don't know that it will ever as real as she wants it to be because I have a no fair man haunting my dreams (as if my waking hours weren't enough for him!). I will never say that I will never be truly happy because I am a consumate day dreamer and will never know peace.
Or perhaps not. I have an idea, a sharp, brash idea, but I can't let it go. Even of the others don't follow me, I have to do it. I have to let these fantasies out, they hurt me so. And what does it matter if no one knows, cares, sees, understands what they truly mean to me? They'll be there, and not in my head, not tormenting me, not hurting me. And not making me apathetic to my actual, real world life. Vile-Images will live and so will I.