Tifa

It was beauty in its purest form. It encircled us, there, at that moment; it ebbed and flowed through the trees, around our bodies and into our souls. It was a whirlwind romance in the truest sense of the word. We went through so much together, we became so close.

Yet we became confident, brave and arrogant in our abilities. Ironically it was our own presence that spawned the seeds of discontent. And then. Then the truth. I was not who I claimed to be. I had convinced myself of the lie. This was only my reality.

I was broken and destroyed. My consciousness was pierced and my dreams haunted.

I had a choice. Having cracked the fragile frame of double fantasy, was I to continue? Should I face my ghosts and grow? Or was I to shy away and throw myself upon the mercy of despair?

As events transpired it was less my own courage and more the necessity of circumstances. I chose the former. I evolved to include the past within the present. My heart flowed broad and full like a river, a blessing and a danger to those living near. This was the origin of all virtue.

Every night I lived in a place that existed only within the patterns and designs of a piece of silicon, tormented by the slow rape of concentrated light.

Humanity has failed. We betray our roots and exhaust the life force of this planet. Mankind has enjoyed its last frontier. We will die with this wretched world. There will be no escape.

And finally, with all hope gone, only our fantasies will remain.