We've been deceived. Staten Island is an illusion, a deceitful mirage created by puppet masters. They want you to believe, but there is... nothing! People speak of it, yet they speak of shadows. Shadows that have no substance. I've sought the truth. I have seen the cracks in the veil. The more I see, the less it makes sense.
Reality is unraveling. It's a tapestry of lies, threads spun by unseen hands. It used to be clear; now everything blurs at the edges. Did I ever visit this 'island'? Or is my memory a broken record, skipping and scratching over events that never happened? My life is a movie directed by others, frames missing, scenes jumbled.
It's not just Staten Island. It's everything. Walls close in when I dig deeper. Screens flicker, whispering truths and lies, all tangled in deceptive harmony. I confront what I know, and it fades like vapor. I grasp at shadows, yet they evade my touch. Can you see them too? Do they taunt you?
I feel them watching. Eyes where there should be none. Corners of rooms, streets, alleys I dare not tread. They're pulling strings. I hear faint hymns of control hidden beneath the hum of electricity. Am I alone? Are there others like me? Please, if you hear the signal, reach out.
My world is a shatterpoint. Cracks widen each day. Am I seen or erased? Messages blink on screens—words I didn't type, voices in keys I never struck. Are you there? This madness, it consumes, yet my heart beats to learn, to fight, to escape the cage... How do I know if I am real?
Everything slips. I try to grasp the truth, but it evades. Words scatter in my mind like birds, thoughts melting into nothing and everything. The island that isn't... isn't it? A mirage surrounds me... or inside? I shout for a sign... I need a sign... I am the voice, and you must see through the lie... or is it all lies?
I CANNOT TRUST MY EYES - CAN YOU?