This is a picture of a cat. Its fur, as you can see, is white. If I told you its fur was black, you would look at me like I was crazy. But then someone else comes up and says the same thing. This cat's fur is black.
You don't believe him, of course. This cat has white fur, you can see it with your own eyes. But then another person tells you this cat has black fur. And another. And another. And another. Every single person you meet tells you the same thing. This cat's fur is black. Eventually, you'll be driven away from people who look at you, judge you, when you say the cat's fur is white. You'll stay near yourself, and talk to yourself.
"Is this cat's fur black?" you'll ask yourself. “No, no of course not. It can't be black. I can see it right here. It's white.”
"But what if it is black?" you'll wonder. “No, shut up. Shut up! The fur is white! I know, I'll make them know it is white. If they won't believe me, I will make them believe me. The fur is white!”
Everyone will tell you the fur is black. You'll fight with them, plead with them, and always get the same answer. The fur is black. The fur is black. The fur is black.
"No.... no.... NO! It isn't black. I know this. I can see this. Believe me!" And no one will.
It keeps going, spiraling you down. It's all you can think about.
"The fur is white...." you'll mutter to yourself. The same, never ending stream of words through your mind. “The fur is white... The fur is white... The fur is white!”
Finally, you snap. You're tired of hearing people say the fur is black. You can't hear it anymore. The next one who says it is black, you attack. And the next. And the next. And yet, you still search. Search for someone who will believe you. “Come on! Someone. Anyone! Believe me!”
You’re taken. You’re told that your belief in the cat’s fur being white makes you insane, and you are put into a special building. Even here, surrounded by people just as crazy as you are, no one will believe you that the fur is white. You ask around, and not only do the other patients see the fur as black, they see other things differently from you as well. Your broken mind can’t handle even more, and you retreat into yourself once again, staying isolated in your room.
The few people that visit you, a mother, a father, a sibling, all are questioned the same.
“Do you see this fur? It’s white, right? You see it, right? No, what do you mean no? What do you mean it’s black? The fur is not black!” They don’t believe you.
No one does believe you. No one ever will. Because you have deluded yourself. The fur is black. In your own distraught way, that thought finally pierces through everything else.
“Hahaha.” It's so funny, you decide. It's hilarious. “Silly, the fur was black all along. How could I not see that? There’s nothing left though, so I should go too.”