Free will.

We, the humans, the frightened, the insecure humans, the normal humans, the common, the vulnerable, the weak, the strong, all of us, always had this need, this urge, to desperately grasp whatever makes us feel safe, secure, whatever pushes the fear away from our dreams, so they wont become nightmares ever again.

We all have our demons, and we may be hunted forever by them. We are aware that it could get even worse: more new demons may be yet to come.

We know, that at the end, this, all of this, could most certainly be just one big and cruel lie, but a beautiful lie nonetheless, because it is in the truth where the demons lurk, and wait or so we think. We choose to avoid the wonders and colors in the world, the real world, because of those dark beings in our mind. And it is in our ancient struggle against those demons that we became demons ourselves, and now we haunt other souls with the shadows of oblivion.

Yet, in all the anguish, and fear, and pain, we still choose, we've always had.

We choose to believe, in the comfortable lie, that the infinite can be held within our limited understanding. That we can rest assure, we can trust, and ask for no evidence whatsoever, of anything, because at some point, in our existence, it will not matter if it was real or not, true or false, it was all real, because we choose to make it so. To believe it so. And even when the beating drums of reality make the frail earth in which you step on tremble, you will always have the choice to endure the quakes, withstand the end of the world you created, the haven you built collapse all around you, the ground crushing under your feet, because when its over, and you overcome the power of reality, you will have wings, and never need to walk on firm soil ever again. You will never come back. Still, you never leaved. You created universes to live on, and you destroyed them in your stubborn attempt to avoid breathing truth.

Free will. We choose. We've always had.

Or did we?