I have screamed at God in the silence of my soul, demanding—why? Why did You hand me everything I begged for? Love, life, money, fame—everything I ever desired, delivered as if it were nothing. And yet, I stand shattered, lost in a whirlwind of confusion and despair. Why is it so easy for me, while others claw and bleed just to grasp a fragment?
Because I have been a ghost living behind a mask—a cruel, brilliant lie. Inside, I am someone broken, someone shattered, someone desperate. But outside, I wore a perfect disguise. I became a master of illusion, weaving a web so strong that everyone fell into it. They were drawn to the lie—the fake me—and I let them in, deeper and deeper.
But the truth? The truth tore me apart from the inside out. When I finally ripped off that mask and bared my soul, they recoiled. Their pride, their shame, their cowardice—they turned away. They abandoned me in the cold dark, leaving me to drown in the wreckage of a love that was never real.
Maybe that’s why only a few ever truly felt me—because I was fooling them all. I played their hearts like a cruel game, desperate for affection, desperate for attention. Was I wrong? Maybe. But my heart? It was pure fire, burning with truth.
I told the truth today. And everything collapsed. The love vanished like smoke. The pain I thought I could never feel flooded me—raw, unbearable. The sadness I swore I was immune to? It crushed me. I am nothing now but a soul laid bare, staring into the merciless face of reality.
And what is reality but a theater of fakes? So I ask—am I the imposter, or are they? Why do they fake friendship if it doesn’t exist? Why do they pretend to love, when their hearts are hollow? Why do they flaunt wealth that’s just a mirage? Why do they claim to be with me, when all along, they are ready to vanish? Because one day, they all leave—maybe in pain, maybe in death, but leave they will.
They are all actors in this tragic play. So what makes my deception any worse? Because my mask doesn’t fit society’s script, I am cast out, labeled broken, sick. But what of their lies? Who do I scream this to? Everyone accepts their falsehoods as “normal.” Fake love, fake friendship—“it’s just life.” So why am I the outcast? Why am I not part of this cruel illusion? I refuse to be.
I want to be real. I want to be raw. I want to be me.
In this cold, heartless world, I have found a brutal clarity. I’m grateful no one was truly with me because I was only pretending—faking happiness to hold them close. I thought they would stand by me when darkness swallowed me whole. But they never did. They cared only for their money, their status, their fragile illusions.
But one thing is real. One thing stands unshaken—divine love. I feel it now—pure, fierce, eternal. It is the only love that never abandons, never betrays, never dies. I say this with burning certainty—no one else has been there like I thought they would.
I want no false promises. No hollow words. Only the universe’s raw power beside me. Yes, I am broken. Yes, I am lost. But this is not the end. I will rise—stronger, fiercer—not in lies or illusion, but in the blinding, unforgiving light of truth.
