He sat in front of the dead fireplace, matches in hand. His heard throbbed with fear and hurt, and as he stuffed the newspaper scrawled with angry lettering into the black stove, he felt, and he knew that it was real. A match flared in the dark room, and he looked at it for a moment, wondering why nobody cared. As the flames crept across the paper, as they consumed the words from the heart, he watched, and wondered, and hated the ones who made him who he was, even as he realized that it was his own fault. Footsteps on the stairs, and he didn't turn, and nobody cared. He looked across the room, remembering. And then he thrust his hands into a burning inferno, with no escape but to be consumed, and he cried in pain against everything he was, watching his hand wither into dust and ashes. His eyes, dark eyes, were lit up by the light of his own flesh, and he realized he wouldn't be able to follow his dreams, he never was able to follow his dreams. The only thing he could do was ask someone else to realize his dream for him, to take the glory and freedom, because he couldn't reach for the stars anymore. He left the room, running towards the icy creek nearby, and diving in, he felt his feet being to freeze. Nothing to hold on to, nothing to stand on, nothing but emptiness and pain. And within his heart he knew that he couldn't run away anymore, as he watched his feet turn white under the water. He flopped onto shore, and he had nothing, just his head and his heart. And even though everything was gone, he knew, he was still who he was, and even if they took away his freedom, his feet, his hope, his hands, he would LIVE ON, and even if they made him flop for the rest of his life, he would persist, until they saw him for what he really was, and what he always wanted to be to them. He was more than a body, more than a homo sapien, he was real, he felt pain, and he knew that he felt it. And suddenly, he woke up out of the nightmare, and realized that it was real.

If you cannot feel, you cannot live. Care, just care, and love with all your soul, body, mind, and heart, with everything in you, and stop being afraid of what you think they think you are. Look into his eyes today, and you'll see his nightmare, and know that whoever you are, you are the person that can wake him up and set him free. He is real, and so are you, and the truth is REAL, and sometimes, to see that, you need to know what being real really means to you. I started this post with anger and fear in my heart, but all I really wanted to say is that I love you, and I always will, even if your hands and your feet are burned away.