Hey everyone, this is CH again—back with another thought-provoking piece, but this time it’s about a world most people will never know you’re living in.
There are two worlds.
One is the one you can touch, breathe in, and bump your shoulder against. The
other… is the one that quietly grows inside your mind when no one is watching.
The two worlds
In the first world, the rules are old, fixed, and written long
before you arrived.
In the second, the rules are not just broken; they are rewritten by your own
hands, in the dark corners where no one can see what you are building.
Slipping into the imagined
The more you step into this inner world, the more the outer one
starts to blur.
You walk through real streets, sit in real rooms, speak to real people—yet it
all feels like a faint, unfinished sketch, while the true, vivid life is
happening somewhere behind your eyes.
The promise of safety
Inside, everything bends to your will.
People are kinder, moments are perfect, conversations end the way you wish they
had, and the life you never got to live plays on repeat like a secret film made
only for you.
But this comfort is not a gift.
It is a curse that knows your name, and it hunts the ones who are tired of
being rejected, misunderstood, or left behind by the world that demands proof
of existence in every breath.
The whisper of the curse
At first, it only whispers.
“Hey, little one… I know who you are. I know where you belong. Come. Follow me.
I will take you to the place that never pushed you away.”
You tell yourself it’s just imagination, just harmless escape.
But the voice is patient. It repeats, it lingers, it wraps itself around your
thoughts until refusing it feels like betrayal.
When the mind becomes a home
Slowly, it builds its palace inside your mind—room by room, memory
by memory.
It decorates it with your abandoned dreams, your unsaid words, your unfinished
versions of yourself, until you begin to prefer its halls over your own
reflection in the mirror.
The pleasure there is sharp, almost blinding.
It feels so real, so complete, that reality starts to feel like the lie.
The quiet disappearance
In that inner world, you stay. You laugh. You live.
And to you, nothing seems wrong. You’ve finally found the place where you are
accepted, where nothing hurts unless you allow it to.
But outside, something starts to fade.
People watch your eyes drift away mid-conversation, notice your pauses growing
longer, your responses slower, as if you are listening to a voice they cannot
hear.
They say you are losing your mind, your consciousness, your grip.
Yet the truth is far more unsettling: you did not lose your reality.
You traded it—for a world that feels more honest than the one everyone else
still calls “real.”
And if you’re reading this and recognizing pieces of yourself
between these lines…
maybe the question isn’t whether you’ll return.
It’s whether, when the other world calls you tonight, you will even want
to.
Because somewhere between the ticking of the clock and the silence of
your own breath,
that world is waiting—quiet, patient, watching you from the corner of your
vision.
It knows you.
It remembers you.
And it will open its door again.
The only thing you won’t know…
is whether you stepped in on your own—
or whether it finally reached out and pulled you back.
And by the time you realize the difference,
you might already be gone.
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