The bug is in my brain.
The bug is telling me things. I’m not supposed to listen to it. They say it’s lying but it feels like the truth. The more I listen to it, they say, the stronger it gets.
But sometimes I just can’t help myself. I try to push it away but when I do, he keeps coming back in the places where I’m supposed to be safe.
The bug is an intruder they say, it’s just a bad seed in your brain.
But I have this bug for a reason right?
Maybe the bug is truth trying to stop me from lying to myself. He makes so much sense sometimes.
It’s telling me something bad is going to happen to me. Something is after me. When he catches you, the bug says, it will be too late. It’s not just that you’re going to die, it’s that you realize that the road to your demise is long and painful. It seems to go on forever.
There are things I need to do in order to stop the bad thing from coming. I don’t want to do these things but I have to. They tell me that when I look back enough, the bad thing won’t be coming after me anymore. I don’t want to look back, the bad thing might be there.
The bug is so loud. I just want it to leave me alone. But it doesn’t work that way. Not for people like me. You think there’s an escape but there is none. The escape is the dream. Reality is the prison.
Art by Francis Bacon.