Please login or signup to add a comment to this paragraph.


Add comment   Close
Pheobe Myers Pheobe Myers
Recommendations: 9

perception is reality.


Share this writing


Link to this writing



Start Writing

More from Pheobe Myers

learn
violet
what you've done to me.
dear friend
you and i.

More Short Stories

Rebekah King Rebekah King
Recommendations: 21
Darkness
Jason Dookeran Jason Dookeran
Recommendations: 12
Nell
Elizabeth Tan Elizabeth Tan
Recommendations: 29
I Cannot Resist
Stephen Stribbell Stephen Stribbell
Recommendations: 10
Four Fundamentals of Making Acquaintances
Kaitlyne Beaudin Kaitlyne Beaudin
Recommendations: 25
She had a friend.

ok. first story on this site. ignore spelling and punctuation jiffies.  plz comment thoughts :)


Perception is reality. this fading thought rang in her mind.


  Her father was a cruel businessman with a all to defined knowledge of the cruel sick world in which they called reality. he would whisper that sentence to her as she would drift into her dreams at night. that sentence would haunt her thoughts and grace her dreams. when she was alone she would dwell on this. perception is reality. she would whisper softly to herself "perception is reality. everyone perceives something different than another. so no ones reality is the same. if someone perceives the grass of the earth as baby blue wouldn't that be they're own slightly tainted reality. but is it possible that what we perceive isn't in fact true at all. I perceive I am alone sitting in the garden but its possible that I could be hanging from a tree blue faced and drifting. there is no true reality. only a tainted shared perception. and this is the terrible fate of which we call reality."


  She would feel herself losing touch with her surroundings, fading into her thoughts. down the hole she would mock. she would slip into a darker reality. a reality where the impossible is beautifully improbable. where laws of the world didn't reign. where she was mad. hysterically mad with all the possibilities. this world of her mind was a escape. her demons may lurk there in the shadows as her saviors would would scream from afar guiding her through.



   Those saints of her thoughts would whisper and taunt and scream and laugh as they dragged her by her hair through disaster. sometimes she would come back to the same world and existence as her father and humans and they would call her bonkers, sick, insane, and lost. they rumored about her. spreading any dirty lie they could fathom about her. she probably did belong in a home but she would only ignore them and listen to the whispers in her head.



    she knew one day she would fall down that hole and never return. she knew she would certainly never be sane again. to the tea party she would go. the voices would have faces and the shadows would have souls. she would find who she really was. she would know about the raven. she would hear the song and she would understand herself. her beautiful insanity. her new reality. she knew what she would call it. she would call it "wonderland" and when they would ask that daring question of "who are you?" she would know the answer. the answer of Alice. the reality of Alice and her mad wonderland.


Link to this writing

Share this writing


Next: All I Wished For Is Gone