The city of lies stretches out before you, its lights warm you with its incandescent luminence, and your spirit soars. Where there was once so much pain there is now only pleasure, where there was so much barren wilderness and a distopian world where you could not fit in, you now adore and are vital.
You are vital. The trees stretch on forever, but the lights of the city only illuminate part of it. Where there was vast untamed lands, uncharted human depths, have been plumbed, succored to your breast, to the breast of others like you, and now hold an eerie loving gaze over. You are mesmerized.
You were so deeply hurt, so many nights ago. That day fades in your memory, but a small scar has formed over the soft tissue of your heart, and you are warmed by its thought.
You thought that things were as they seemed, you thought you had known the truth, that people were people, and gosh darn it they liked you!
But a truth had overwhelmed you, a truth that was not so, that was rather an opposing force to its kin, a damned lie, one that brought the tumbling of the castle of cards built in the sky, as a pie, blue sky.
You thought you could trust them. There was Honor, there was also Honour, there was Truth, there was Good and there was Evil. Not so, you learned, but only after being burned by that flame which now is alight in your soul.
You've become part and parcel, master of this lands. You can speak no more Truth nor Lie, for you recognize the inevitable deceit of them both.
Your consciousness is but a sight on your passing shadow, it can not offer a truth about yourself, neither a clear view. It's introspective qualities are far removed from the optimum, which is your opium. You are enamored with the optimal solution, yet can never attain it.
Once accepted, you are unleashed upon the world as a storm, and as inevitable, you do not seek to change or ameliorate your disfunction.
The storm cannot change, the storm is inevitable and rushes on through the barren rock leaving no leavings behind, for all is whipped into the air and rendered immobile.
There are no thoughts which last until yours do, for you can hold them in the palm of your hand and love the ending of them all.