-18th Rest-

“There is no truth, and there is no falsehood. There are only shades of gray.” I think I’m beginning to understand the meaning of those words.

I keep having dreams about my childhood—bright, happy memories from a time when the world was full of warmth. The laughter of friends, the sound of running through fields, and the sun shining overhead. But each time I wake, I feel a pang of confusion, wondering if those moments were ever real at all. I can’t tell anymore if those dreams of my past are actual memories, or if this gray, endless landscape is the true reality. Or maybe… maybe this is the dream—a nightmare I can’t wake from.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The lines between the two have blurred so much that I no longer know which world is real. The dreams are so vivid, so full of life, that for fleeting moments, I can almost believe I’m back there, living in those memories. But when I wake to the desolate hills and cold, monochrome sky, the contrast is unbearable.

I know exactly what this is. I’m experiencing a dissociative disorder caused by the graying. My mind is slowly unraveling, losing touch with reality, and detaching from everything that once felt solid and true. The lines between what’s real and what’s imagined are becoming impossible to distinguish, and I fear I’m slipping further with each passing rest.

More patches of gray have spread across my body, creeping along my skin like a slow, inevitable decay. At this rate, I can only assume that as more of me succumbs to the graying, these dissociative episodes will only worsen.