Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25239238-20140731094121

There's no actual title to it, it was something I wrote when I was bored.

This world is filled with impurities; crime, death, and war. However, the people themselves aren’t in control. We are each a pawn, a playing piece on this giant chess board. Deities influence our decisions. We were made for their entertainment, no more, no less. Some reveal this and realize, if we had a purpose, we wouldn’t have each other at the throats. They say we are all “just people” in the end. If we are, why do we continue to kill and steal from each other? Why do we argue about the dumbest things? Why are we so worried about our image? If we had a purpose, we would have been beyond the point we are. We could have ascended long before we developed the idea of war. We would be the gods. But, we are trapped in this prison they call reality. Delusions are the gate away from this hell. Dreams and nightmares are the fuel to keep you alive beyond reality. Reality is an illusion, created by the “normal” things in life. Normal is simply a label to help us sleep at night. I could go on and on about how reality isn’t an actual thing, but that’ll take too long. Reality is only an end to a means. Something to keep us confined like cattle. Strange sights, such as a shadow you thought wasn’t real, or a voice you heard across the hallway, a auditory hallucination, as it were. The people that you call “insane” are actually the gatekeepers, people who are trapped in this hell, but have broken the veil of Reality. People like me. 