I’m tired again today.

We have to believe in the little lies before we can believe the large ones. Maybe that’s why I can’t believe in today’s world.

Fantasy portrays a world where everything you do will eventually be paid back. The hero defeats the demon king. Or becomes the demon king.

Reality is different. You will work your ass off every single day of your life, each breather causing you to hurt more when you plunge back in, because the addiction just hurts that much harder. With nothing to show for it.

You die.

There is no fanfare.

You die.

That's it.

You die.

You die.

You...

die.

With nothing to your name.

The world will mourn you. Or, at least, the people that knew you, would mourn you.

And then the world will go on.

I’m tired again today.

I say that because it’s easier to define this feeling as being ‘tired’, when there’s no good term for it. I can’t even begin to describe it.

It’s not emptiness. It’s not sadness. If I really really had to, I could say it’s similar to… yearning. But it’s not exactly yearning either.

It’s like the addict, huddling off the side of road 53, by the side of a neon green store. It’s cold and it’s freezing and in your heart there’s a pit.

The world is already dead. The scientists give conservative estimates. The world is already dead.

I am already dead. I will die one day. There’s no difference. I am already dead.

I’m tired again today.

I want to sleep and never wake up.

The only thing keeping me going is stubbornness.

Thank god.

No, it doesn’t get better. You just learn to live with the pain. The pain will always be there. it’ s gnawing and it’s aching and it will swallow you whole. It will drown you. You will escape, breathe, and then plunge back in again. Sometimes of your own volition.

The pain will always be there.

I’m tired again today.

I’ve listened to a dozen songs. I’ve not done a single piece of work. I’ve cut myself, emotionally, on the strings of the nameless strangers on the Internet who, like me, are all struggling to breathe.

What if Nyx had won?

Okay, it’s a bit niche, but in Persona 3, the final boss is Nyx Avatar. Nyx states that, if the world had more people who struggled against the world even if they knew it was futile, perhaps the world might have changed.

You have to believe in the little lies to believe the large ones.

Hope. Love.

I am willing to be deceived.

I am willing to swallow the blue pill of Hope and die, feet stuck in a crevice, arm crushed, breathing in blood and spit, struggling against the world.

And the world will move on the same.

I’m tired again today.

In the Man Who Was Thursday, an ally states that Sunday is impossible to defeat, but he is willing to try anyways. Does that not make all the difference?

I’ve escaped into Fantasy time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and rime-

You see, the difference between Fantasy, and Reality, is that in Fantasy, at least you get payback.

You have to believe in the little lies to believe in the large ones.

The Man Up There, the concept of Karma, the idea that everyone is willing to help-

There was research done that people were only willing to move if they knew for sure everyone would move as well.

I really hope that is not a lie.

You have to believe in the little lies to believe in the large ones.

I’m tired again today.

Truth has shown, time and time again, that the world is dead. Long has been. For a long time. For the longest time.

You have to believe in the little lies to believe in the large ones.

I’m tired again today.

Truth has found that feelings are just chemicals. Little bits of atoms that confuse and befuddle the organ brain. What is this tiredness, then?

What is this stubbornness, then?

You…

I have to…

believe?

I am so tired today. And I will be tired tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that day.

And I will be stubborn all those times too.