[THE GARDEN OF THE MIND]
[do you see what i see?]
[take off the blindfold.]
[ask your reflection if it understands itself.]

MEMY10 - the-deserter

i think i'm starting to lose my grip on reality... the things i say
aren't making much sense anymore.

for the past... god knows how long, i've been creating and diving
deeper.

i believe my rooms reflect my mental state, as self-centered as that
sounds.

i also believe that my rooms have some influence from the jouse
itself... i've come to understand that the two are completely
intertwined at this point.

i don't even know why i went down this path.

it's not like i really hated my friends, i just... like pushing
people away.

the cold, fucked up side of myself wants to see the people i
associate with leave me behind in search of better endeavors... so i
indulge, i give them that push.

i fully acknowledge that what i'm doing isn't the best for anyone,
but do i really care enough to change?

a few rooms ago, i caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror.

i stopped for a moment and... started at myself.

my clothes were dirty.

my hair looked longer.

i was growing some facial hair.

i had not realized until then that i had done the same to others
unto myself... what i saw in the mirror, i refused to believe was me.

it had to have been a trick, i thought to myself.

the jouse must be fucking with me, i thought to myself.

i couldn't let myself slip like this, i thought to myself.

i couldn't let myself slip like this, i thought to myself.

i couldn't let myself slip like this, i repeated to myself.

...i had.

i had used my wanderlust as a cheap excuse to dissociate from
myself.

i had used it to rip █████, the idea from █████, the person.

i find it hard to use my own name.

when others had asked, i... stumbled on it, i hesitate, i look like
i'm in pain.

i have to force my own words out, as if i'm not the one speaking for
myself.

...but look at me, the person speaking on the topic of identity
refuses his own.

am i still myself?

i need to keep going... reaching the heart will give me answers.

...but will it, really?

i'm beginning to have second thoughts about this.

as i lie here in an empty wasteland of a room, reminiscent of an
underwater cave drained of all its liquid, i ask myself...

how long had it been since the light gave up on █████?

♪ — pick-up-a-watering-can
original: Land Of The Lost - TheWimzy