The Last Banana

In the past three years, I have attempted to tell the story countless times, but all ended in failure. With more than 100k words written in total and millions of hours clocked into conversations, I was determined to find out the truth.

Like walking into a room of mirrors, images, illusions, escalation, deception, madness bouncing between the walls of reflections, thrown into a big boiling pot. The truth continued to mock me, swelling and radiating.

Those nights were haunted by memories and illusions; the attacks at sunsets; heartaches came in waves. I was drowning, and I chose to keep drowning. I knew everything will be gone once I woke up. I squeezed my eyes shut...

Down the path of darkness, what I was searching for was searching for me. I looked into the abyss as it stared back deep into my soul. It asked me a question, and there I had my answer.

The truth is a gassy bitch.