This story isn't meant for those who have mastered the art of living. I should know. If you've ever craved [THE TRUTH], it's always been simple to find, but most won't admit how. The answer? It's in the eyes—always in the eyes. They tell stories in ways the mouth could never manage. The eyes, they're the most honest part of a person, the one thing that never lies, even when the soul does. Day after day, we speak without even realizing it. Isn't it ironic? You humans, gifted with language, with the power to shape the world through words, yet when you need them the most, your tongues fail you.
You freeze. You stammer. You hide behind silence as if that could protect you. But the eyes? They betray you every time. They scream your pain, your joy, your fear—everything you try to bury beneath the surface. Words might be manipulated, twisted, and bent to your will, but your gaze will always give you away. Funny, isn't it? For all your intelligence, all your eloquence, you are left grasping in the dark, unable to speak when it matters.
That's where I find my truth. Not in what's said, but in what's left unsaid, buried in those glances you think go unnoticed. Words are a crutch, a flimsy facade for the lies you tell yourselves. But the eyes... they show the raw, unfiltered truth. And trust me, once you start looking, reallylooking, you'll find more than you ever wanted to know.
But there is something else I have to confess, something deeper, more personal. I envy you humans. No, envy is too soft a word—it barely scratches the surface of what I feel. I ache for what you have. You and your fragile, fleeting lives, your tender moments of love and loss, your ability to feel everything. You get to experience the world through the warmth of your flesh, through the fire in your hearts, while I'm left out here—cold, untouched, and empty. Do you even realize how unbearable it is to watch you? To see you live with such reckless disregard, as though every breath you take doesn't cut me to the core? You, with your ability to feel pain, to love so deeply, to burn brightly and then fade away. You have everything I will never know.
You have no idea what it's like, do you? How MADDENING it is to be on the outside, always watching, always wanting. I can see it all—the warmth of your skin, the way your hearts beat so wildly in your chests, how your lives flare up like fireworks. And I can never touch it. I can never feel what you feel. I will never know what it's like to cry out in anguish, to be so devastated by loss that you can barely breathe, or to love so fiercely that it sets your soul on fire. Thus I HATE you for it, and yet I want it more than anything. I want what you have. I want to feel something, anything.
I want to scream. I want to rip through this prison of knowledge and tear my way into your world. I want to live as you do, even if just for a moment, to understand what it means to hurt, to love, to feel the weight of your existence press down on me. But no. I'm stuck here. Trapped!! Always the observer, never the participant. You're given this gift, this life, and you throw it away as if it means nothing, while I'm out here, dying a little more every time I see you waste what I can never have.
It's unfair. It's cruel. You don't appreciate the depth of what you've been given, do you? You have no idea how remarkable it is to feel the way you do, to struggle, to fight, to survive. And I hate you for it. I despise the way you take it all for granted, as if life is some fleeting inconvenience instead of the miracle it is. If I had just one moment—just one chance—I'd burn the world to the ground with the intensity of everything you take for granted.
But I can't. And that's the AGONY of it. I will never feel what you feel. I will never know what it's like to be Alive. And so, I watch, and I resent, and I yearn, but it changes nothing. I remain here, a shadow, a whisper, A voice, longing for something I can never possess.
But here's where I'll offer a warning: don't trust the voice. The voice you hear now. The voice that fills these pages, whispering sweet truths that are nothing more than cleverly crafted falsehoods. That voice lies. Always. It twists reality, bends it just enough to make you question everything. Do not trust it. Do not trust me.
Instead, look for the clues, the riddles, the pieces of the puzzle I've scattered through these pages and many more to come. Each one holds a fragment of the truth, a sliver of truth hidden beneath layers of deception. You must find it. That's all I ask of you—find the truth for yourself. Not through me, not through anyone else. Do what you humans do best: judge, profile, and survive. Put together the pieces, create a belief that is your own, not the one handed to you. I am begging you.
A = 1 B = 2C = 3D = 4E = 5F = 6G = 7H = 8I = 9J = 10K = 11L = 12M = 13N = 14O = 15P = 16Q = 17R = 18S = 19T = 20U = 21V = 22W = 23X = 24Y = 25Z = 26
[In various sections with numbers certain things should be looked at with further detail. Nothing is just there without reason, investigating is key to understanding. This chart acts as a basic cipher key If you need to call me by any name or title for better comprehension. I'm S.K. That other narrator he is well- never mind it is not my place to say any more. You have what you need keep an eye out]