A piece I wrote earlier today

some thoughts of the life that's presented to us

Isn't it kind of interesting?

The main characters we see in books,

they're always so articulate and attentive to such minimal details.

I mean, where's the reality in that?

Or is it because i'm just not?

The ones younger than me knew just what to say,

I felt discouraged by every sound I made.

Does that say anything about my character?

It's not really the characters, is it?

It's the writer. Nobody thinks this way in the moment, right?

Why not write the story of a character that approached you? 

They wanted to determine their fate, it feels like they wanted control.

I suppose as an artist, that can be powerful.

But they want to write a reality,

I only see what is deemed one, but never to me.

Who really cares?

Maybe I just grew up in a different reality.

The kind of reality where reality isn't real, not to us.

The artificial fourth dimension is where we live now.

Constant happenings, consistent distractions.

So what if those characters in books are real?

All they had was the world.

Nothing else to observe but the world.

Yet, even now, lives presented to us are never real.

Is there truth to what I'm saying?