Unmasking the Shattered Reality

To my dear readers,

I have a confession: I wear a mask, one tainted bronze, so I may hide myself, but such a mask has sullied my clear face. My mind is plagued with fears of the future. Why must this world be so deceiving? Climb upon the stars and mountains up above, only to fall painfully onto the ground you once looked down upon. What is it like with the world upside down? I can say it’s like losing all sense of balance, where every step feels heavy, and the ground beneath me is uncertain. I no longer know what’s real—whether I’m rising or falling, whether the stars ever meant anything at all. The world spins, and I am left clutching for something, anything, to hold onto, but even my hands betray me. How do I trust a reality that keeps shifting under my feet?

Yours in truth,
Strychnine