Paranoia

I stood undulated, in front of the mirror. Speculating at the vanity of my own self. A mere image. Haziness imprinted in the eye, lack of purpose etched on the face.

I wondered if I could ever betray my own self? All my life, filled with lies and delusion, have I not been lying to myself? Lulling myself to security when I knew nothing would be alright. Deluding myself into tales of utter dismay, dismantling myself into a real world of my desperate fantasies. I don't remember being able to smile, for what seemed like an eternity, burning away all the truths in the funeral pyre of my wretched self-esteem.

Living a lie.

Lying a life

A sudden, unwarranted hand-motion, I caught myself mimicking on the other side.

"There has been no lies, I guess the pain was real."

And with utter realisation , I began to laugh a hysterical laugh.