Everything around is fake.
Your love is fake.
All the caring, the experience, every heartbreak, every tear, is fake.
I only see what you show me, I only know what you want me to know, I will not doubt what you say is true, I will not believe what you say is false.
You designed my life, you determined everything about me, and you used your power to kill my desire to struggle again and again.
After the lie, it's still a lie, and a lie is woven into a lie. In an illusory world, a fake life, a fake emotion, only I am true, and I am the only one who actually thinks it is all true.
But I didn't expose your lies, because I learned to accept, and everything is submissive. We accept the reality of the world with which we're presented.
I'm not Truman, I know so much more than he is.
He is fortunate to find that there is another so-called real world outside the virtual world where he lives for him to pursue and look forward to.
And I, I was in this so-called real world, in fact, it was terrifyingly real. It was so real that I knew I had nowhere else to run away from it.
So, the triviality and hypocrisy of worldly life finally paralyzed my keen soul.
I continue to live as you wish.
In this way, the cruelty you have always wanted to give me is achieved.
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