I was born on a world not too far away from this one, in a science facility where they test massive dosages of “brain enhancementsâ€? to human subjects. They said when I was birthed, I was wide awake and alert, not making a sound. My brown eyes glazed over with a green tint spoke my thoughts in my first years of life. There was concern that my brain didn’t develop properly and I was considered mute since, as a baby, I couldn’t make a sound.
That changed when I was sent here. They didn’t want me on my home planet because I was faulty. A specimen who couldn’t speak, or make a sound, was useless to them. My earth parents were good people. My father was never around and my mother only beat me occasionally. It only happened because I learned to speak up for myself. To avoid being abused, I learned to shut up.Keeping quiet wasn’t the only thing I was good at. Opposite to that, I learned early on that no matter what words I used, or what I spoke about, people always paid attention to my stories. At first, I considered it a gift. Minds were enthralled in what I had to say. Eyes looked at me and ears drank in my thoughts. I was questioned with how these ideas came to be. I could only answer that it’s all from my mind. Then I was diagnosed as a pathological liar. I feel I can relate to the paradox, “The following sentence is true: The previous sentence is a lie.â€? I was rarely trusted among my peers in school. I didn’t have many friends, and the friends I did have didn’t care if I was lying or telling the truth, it was all in good fun as long as no one got hurt. I agreed, until I kept getting beaten at home. I didn’t know that whatever was happening to me at home was wrong. I continued with my antics and thought of the beatings I received at home normal. I deserved to get beaten up. I still think that. It is only at this time of my life that I’m concerned with myself. Sometimes the lines of truth and story (lies) are blurred, and it’s all about what gives me pleasure at the moment. It seems I don’t care what I say, as long as the thoughts drain from my brain. People are getting hurt, and I can’t seem to care. I may just be heartless and stupid.
I read the first paragraph. Canada sounds like a weird place.
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.