What if the world is an illusion?
What if oxygen is deadly, and we are all just victims?
What if there is an element out there, a gas that we haven't tested, that causes us to live longer and healthier?
What if I'm still under anesthesia from the time I had surgery when I was 5, and I can change all my life choices?
All of these thoughts run my mind, EVERY night before I go to bed.
I toss, and turn, and toss, and turn, but I can't take it anymore.
Everyone else knows what they're going to do and be in life.
Me?
Alex Bedroia?
I have no idea.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
I jump out of bed, and go straight to the bathroom.
I stare at myself in the mirror, with bloodshot eyes.
I'm ugly.
Worthless.
But there's something bothering me.
I look up at my window, and wince at some thoughts i've been having.
I feel like there is someone.
In trouble.
Close to me.
And they need my help.
