ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ³ wrote: ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ:
Was the world full of mistakes and expectations? Yes, of course.
Do we tempt or burying ourselves into trends that we believe to be
mainstream or different?
As you read this paragraph, you see that I have many, much too many,
questions about the world and how it thrives in success, no- failure upon
each person. But I myself, haven't touch the poison of dependence.
I stood on the fifteenth floor balcony of Norwell Industries. Watching over the city,
and its money-making citizens. Citizens who did not deserve to
die, but instead suffer for their desperate needs of assurance and safety.
Stability? Was that the word? No way, it could've not been. They moved. Too fast.
Just like fog, evanescence. The sky's color would drop and signify their hard work in
doing what we call a passion. Passion for what though? I roamed a city full of
condescending higher-ups who want to have clairvoyant powers by creating
such horrible technologies. And to, what? Help us cure cancer? Or make a new
way to experience reality by the headset?
I scoff at those ugly, aggravating thoughts before sitting down on my office chair.
It was only here I could sit, and take off the hideous mask I wore. The whole city wore one.
I mentioned earlier before how people thrive in trends or what nonsense shows up on television.
People want to be unique. But at this point, we tried too hard. Brutal honesty, I tell you.
That was the only thing that saved and gave sense into me. Tell me the facts that hurt.
Open my eye sockets to a whole new world full of balance. A balance of optimism and pessimism.
What was that dimension? Yes, a realistic world.
Coughing the dark blood onto the thin napkin, I fold it into two to use again for later. "My fiore."
I call from the chair. It took her a few seconds, before she strolled in with her seductive
hips. "Yes, Nor?" She asks, fixing her hair.
I roll my eyes at her attempt to be suggestive, "Tell Crawne that I will be out in the city. And I won't return.
In fact, give him my position." I say nonchalantly, swinging my trench coat around my back and onto my arms.
Lany looks at me like I was a madman. "But s-sir, you've been at this for four years. Are you sure you want to do this?"
She attempts blinks twice, and holds her clipboard tight to her chest. I nod once again, and press the button on the elevator.
"Remove my name from every article online, and every plaque in this building. And never speak of this interaction. Are we clear?"
I ask, boring my eyes into her hazel ones. Lany nods very quickly, and pulls up a phone. It was time this mistake was demolished.
Hours I walked, until I reached the seaside of Queens, New York. The water was dark, and a color mix of spoiled paint water.
Feeling the foamy crust of the water wash over my unimportant expensive shoes, as I stripped off my clothing.
Every piece of it. Until I was bare. Was this a invasion for the public eye to see? Of course not, none went to the beach on a rainy day. They feared nature's true beauty and tantrums.
All that was left, was my mask. The hideous one I wore to identify as
a part of a group. A niche.
Was I hesitant to remove, such valuable thing? No. Only in the films
they would be so unsure about. I tossed it. Farther than the other
items. It was my worst critic.
May mother nature create another man. One who will wear my mask, and realize,
Don't take off your mask unless, you dare to be an individual.
username : vibranium
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