Reality's a Fallacy

I think the only reason they grudgingly give me access to something as dangerous as the World Wide Web is to quell the suspicion they must sense on my part towards them. If they let me act like my age, do things girls my age do, then maybe I’ll start to trust them, again, supposing I had done so once upon a time. I don’t know my age. I’m clearly a teenager by the way they treat me. I thought about asking of course, but I figured the less I ask them the less I’m indebted to them. I don’t want to owe them a damn thing, not even the things I know about myself or for myself. But to treat me according to my age is an absurd idea considering the reason I am here should not be routine for anyone much less a teenager.

I’m assuming I had parents only because no one here has ever made any snide jokes about test tubes or Petri dishes. And no one here looks like anyone else, but there is an unspoken expectation (one among many) to act as though “Warlike” is our benevolent father who gives us reason to be. Without him and our attentive mother figure “Innocent Lamb” we could not become all that we are destined to be. Maybe the others know who they are and where they came from, but I do not. I’ve been told it’s an unfortunate side effect of the drug regime we all partake of and it effects each of us in our own unique way, I guess I’ve got all the luck.

Regardless, they make up reality as they deem to be most useful, so why can’t I. At least while online I can pretend for a little while that I’m a normal kid in Anytown, USA. I go to the movies, have school spirit, and a part time job.