I don't know who you are or if you're just reading this because you have nothing else to do, but I don't care. I'm not writing this for you; I'm writing this so that I won't have any more godforsaken reasons to kill myself.
Maybe I'm just a coward, but I hope this will keep me sane.
I'm not going to go through any of this classic "Dear Diary, I had a good day today!" shit, because first of all, I'm not four-years-old, and second, there are no more good days for me.
What I will tell you is that my name is Theolon. Theolon, son of Macar, even though the bastard disowned me a while ago, in a different eon, different world, different life.
That's all I'll tell you right now.
Oh, did you really expect that I'll spill my entire life story to you like I know you? Ha. Like that'll ever happen.
I lied. Go ahead, call me a hypocrite. I agree with you.
It's not like anything that I'm saying right now is true; you just believe me because there's nothing else you could scheme up.
If you're going to read this, this memoir of a suicidal cynic, you're going to need to know one thing about me.
I'm a god damned liar, and I'm goddamn proud of it. And I love lying, because if you really, truly think about it, the entire world's a lie, isn't it?
You're lying to yourself right now.
"But how, dearest Theolon? I'm a good person, I would always tell the truth!"
You LIAR. You think you're a good person?
Nobody's ever, really, truly good.
I used to think that, but I was still a child back then.
I used to live in a cloud of happiness and lies, a bright wide, beautiful fog of deception.
And you know what? That cloud was shattered in such an infinitesimal amount of time that I was left reeling, vulnerable, broken.
You want to know why it broke? Good luck figuring that out.
You should be thankful that I'm telling you.
Love. It was love, the lie of loving someone, of being loved.
Well, this got damn depressing in such a short amount of time. I think I'll leave this right here. Have a nice life and all that.
YOU ARE READING
The Memoirs of Theolon
FantasyGo away. I don't want you reading this. It wasn't meant for you. Frankly, it wasn't made for anyone else, either. I didn't write this for any sole purpose other than to keep myself sane during the millennia I spent deserted and alone. I wrote this...
