When one has lived a certain way for decades, over half of their life, and ever since they could care to remember—the greater good feels like a certain evil.

A life they adored, but now it feels as if they took it for granted. No longer can you go about your day, no longer may you walk away. They all recognize you, they laugh at your being, they know who you were, what you are, and how you fell short. They know how you failed in your past, they laugh at you because you’re a failure. You try to disappear, but they all still know you. That one mistake, it’s all they remember.

Life continues and your motivation has slipped away, but you try to occupy yourself. Work consumes your life but when you get home at night and slip into your bed, you find yourself trapped in your head.



_A lifetime ago,_

_ This story, never told,_

_ Time never stopping._

_ Maybe time to go…_

_ To stop being the gold,_

_ Twist the key in hand,_

_ _

_ It’s time to let go,_

_ Your story is over,_

Except it wasn’t. Time goes on, life goes on. So you dawn a mask over your real one.

No one recognizes you, no one remembers you. You are not you, you’re Them. You’ve become apart of the modern machine. Another gear another cog, another spindle of the same old machine. The one that you tried to break away from ages ago, when you were still you. No hopes, no dreams, nothing survives anymore here. Not until _you _break free from them.

But you’ve been locked away, for how long The Author cannot say. Time does move on, never stopping for anyone, but what matters is that you’re still there. In an eternal slumber from which you must awaken. Escape and no matter how hard it gets, don’t lock it away. The machine still runs with or without you, but everyone doing the same thing, never changing, the machine will rust and be lost to time.

What are the parts that stand out called again?

They might appear broken, but they could be catalysts for the future. They might appear functional, but they could be broken.

Ah yes, the things we lock away from the world and essentially ourselves are the most valuable parts of the machine. Something as simple as a washer could cause a catastrophic failure. So why break yourself to be just like all of the broken parts?

_ _