Prologue

A prologue to a semi-fantasy story I am currently writing.

"He who controls the present, conquered the past. He who controls the past, dictates the future,"

I wish I could dream. Even though I know I do dream when I shut myself off from reality, as all creatures do, and I can remember small incoherent segments of the fantastic hell or somber fantasy; I still wish to dream. To make a dream, to fulfill such a dream. Maybe even come to the conclusion.

This is why I write. Creating dreams for myself as well as other (in due time) is my striving force to keep living. However, this is exactly why I cannot and seemingly will not find completion to the dreams I create. I can blame distractions, of course, but what purpose would that serve? To keep me writing?

Hardly, as excuses would continue to build upon one another, becoming stronger and more intricate with each word uttered in a fruitless attempt at justifying the-

No, to explain such is rhetoric, becoming pointless. However I believe I shall begin a story. It isn't new to me, for I lived the most of it. To anyone else who has the will to read, though, they will find this a peculiar tale.

I will not lie. I will lie. I will continue to lie. Thus is the backbone of a good story; lies created to enhance the truth. Truth is and of itself a wonderful story. This is why so many people strive to find truth in their lives, because they wish to be brought into another world.

Though truth may not make a man happy, he will undoubtedly become satisfied, as it is when a good story is told. The best stories, however, are truths riddled with lies. It allows someone to continue wondering, pondering, long after the story has been told. They will start seeking truth to better understand the stroy, giving them yet another superficial excuse to keep on living.

So I will lie to you. However, it is up to you to seek the truth.

~fin

Blessed Be,
~Arrowhead~