Grey Matter.

Good evening London. If you are reading this and you are not Kim, you caught it at a lucky time. Why's that? Because I hate it. Why do I hate it? Because I wrote it. But, Kim has faithfully read what I have posted and so I posted this just for her! Also, I often feel I have to explain everything before it is presented. So.... this is a letter from a character I thought of. EDIT: I have decided to just leave this up anyways. It begins.

Before you continue reading this there are two things you must know about me. I am not an idiot, and I am not naive. To consider me either would make you both. I have to first assure you that I am not mad. IT however, may be. It is a strange thing what a brain is capable of, it could convince me that I am a burden on society, a parasite feeding from the life of others while replacing nothing. But on the same plain, it could convince me that I am the epitome of evolution, a genius, a prophet. What is worse is that it can convince me that I am insane. The thought alone is chilling. I think it wants to mutiny; instead of it being my brain, it seems that it wants me to be its body. It constantly bombards me with what could only be described as propaganda. Messages of hate and doom, I think it may be trying to kill me.

It is odd when you think about it. Something we trust to keep us functioning and alive suddenly turning against you. Like a government you support and believe in deciding you are an obstacle in their affairs. Even as I write this I am forced to wonder whose agenda am I fulfilling? I fear for my life, I feel like an animal cornered with only two possible outcomes from my inevitable action. Either it dies, or I do. If it can convince me that death would be easier than living then I will be lost. It is not like a kidnapper, making demands based on greed or the thirst for suffering. It is not like the revolutionary, playing to emotion to gain support and relying on rhetoric to spark an uprising. It is more like a demon, simply pushing me aside and forcing me to watch as it gains control.

Maybe I am thinking about this the wrong way. Maybe it has always been in control and I would follow blindly believing it was I making the decisions. It could be only now that I realise I am a slave. I know you might think I have lost my mind but maybe that is exactly what I need to keep my sanity. That makes me think, what does qualify a man for madness? To not agree with the majority? Madness is only a case of numbers, larger versus small. Humans are not born with affiliations, we accept the reality we are given and shun the abnormalities to protect the world we have no confirmation of. Maybe I am the first, the first to be aware of the shackles on my ankles; the first to see the tethers that tie us to our captors.

From birth we are TAUGHT the way to think and feel about things or be excluded from contemporary society. This mental conditioning is little more than acceptable brainwashing. The bones of our world are paper. The skin is stained glass, you can see through it but they already make you question if it is even worth the effort. Instead, you are taught to not even attempt to see the other side but simply be in awe at the spectacle. The facade of belief and blind trust keep us from the truth. Why should I bother? Nothing can be changed at present. A feeling of cynicism has come over me. It is obvious what is causing it; my being aware has made it defensive. I can only do two things. Write this, and hope that the next person to be aware smashes the glass and burns the bones while they have the chance.
FIN.

I like the idea of this character. I might try to work on more things using this.