People will do anything to avoid facing their own souls. To escape from themselves.
But there will come a time when there is nothing left but themselves. Within them, the truth dances like a frenzied nymph to the music that is reaching its crescendo, becoming impossible to ignore. And then the truth they find in their souls will destroy them.
So they deceive themselves. They disguise the truth with a veil of lies, weaving it thicker and stronger.
He did the same. He wanted to escape the chaos around him.
His parents screaming at each other, blaming the other for their struggle to hold their bodies and souls together. He was caught in between.
The rest of the family saying, ‘I told you so.’ He was pushed from every side.
Everyone he thought of as a friend melted away, like the sunlight melting away at dusk. He was left alone.
Only one thing seemed to remain, something that distorted reality and allowed him to construct his own world.
He was dead, but still breathed. That was it. He just breathed, and his heart pumped those chemicals throughout his body. Some part of him protested as he reached for another dose of the drugs, but the battle was already lost. The lies he told himself prevailed, as they always did.
‘You need it. You don’t need to live with this.’
‘You need the strength to cope with this.’
‘It will help you escape from everything.’
In the end, it did help. Helped his mind to escape while his once-fashionable clothes loosened and his eyes took on a manic look. All the while, the truth slowly pushed itself outside, tearing apart the thick veil.
His body withered like a tree in autumn. By winter, all that is left is a bare tree. By winter, the truth emerges, allowing him a final moment of clarity: what really destroyed him were his own lies.
Truly, you lie the best when you lie to yourself.
By spring, all that is left of him is his memory and a grave marked, ‘He hath awakened from the dream of life’. He did awaken, but not from his dream.
He woke from a nightmare.