Allen1996
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To relax while writing some commissions, I had decided to write a prelude and half of a first chapter to the concept of an original story I had in mind that I would call Gnosis. Here is the prelude, what do y’all think of it?
🕑 Added 2026-01-07 01:22:15 +0000 UTCThere's a quote about truth, something about how it liberates, how it sets you free.
There are many things said about truth, to be frank. We're taught its importance, the role it plays between us. How we owe each other honesty. How relationships crumble without it. How integrity matters. All those things we're supposed to believe about truth being good, being necessary, being the foundation of everything worth having.
I was told all of this. I know all of this, and intellectually, I cannot help but admit those things when it comes to the concept, the idea we call truth.
Still.
Deep down, I am who I am. I am human. And like most humans, I think I will always be more comfortable with a sweet lie than a terrible truth.
Maybe you know what I mean. Maybe you've told yourself things—small things—to get through the day. That you're fine when you're not. That everything will work out. That the people who are supposed to love you actually do. That your memories are accurate. That you're happy, or at least happy enough, and isn't that all anyone can ask for?
Maybe you've never done this. Maybe you're completely honest with yourself, always, about everything. Maybe you never flinch from painful realizations or bury uncomfortable truths under layers of justification.
If that's true, then you're remarkable.
You're also lying.
I know, because I've done it too. We all have. We lie to ourselves constantly, in ways large and small, and most of the time we don't even notice. We rewrite our own histories to make them bearable. We edit our memories to cast ourselves as heroes or at least not villains. We tell ourselves stories about who we are, and we believe them, because the alternative is too painful to face.
This is normal. This is human. This is how we survive.
Until it isn't.
This is not a story about discovering you have magic powers. This is not a story about chosen ones or destiny or any of that comfortable fantasy bullshit we use to make ourselves feel special. This is a story about what happens when the lies we tell ourselves stop being enough. When reality starts to push back. When the seams begin to show.
It's a story about delusion and grief. About the things we refuse to see because seeing them would break us. About the moment you realize something is wrong, deeply, fundamentally wrong and you can't quite put your finger on what it is. About the choice between comfortable ignorance and terrible knowledge.
I'm not going to tell you what I discovered. You'll have to read to find out.
Everything began when I was asked a question. So now I'll ask you:
What if everything you believe about yourself is wrong?
I can't promise this story will comfort you. I can't promise it will make you feel better or give you hope. What I can promise is that it's honest or at least as honest as I can manage, which might not be very honest at all, considering what I've learned about myself.
But I'm trying.
That has to count for something.
