What if your life were only a story; a chapter book filled with each and every event you have ever lived through?
What if you are only a mere character made up of ideas spewed from someone else's mind?
What if the climax you have just reached, that strange happening that seems as if it could only be conjured straight from a book, was the turning point in your story?
What would your book be named?
Ah... Don't get too excited, for you are not the one who gets to choose.
Everything that you are walking through may be a string of things created in someone else's head.
Maybe, that's why you feel so lifeless most of the time; because your life is only limited to words printed on paper for someone in the real world, in which you do not know of, to read.
Remember, you do not choose; the author chooses.
You can only hope that they choose in your courtesy.
Goodbye.
I am far too busy writing out someone else's life to speak with you any longer, and the being who created me is done with this chapter of my life.
Hmm...
I wonder what is to happen to me next.
I can only hope that the author chooses in my courtesy.
YOU ARE READING
Constellations Of The Mind
PoetryThoughts pulled at random from the jumble of mischief I claim to be my mind.