I am an elephant and I don’t know what’s real anymore
Too many try to mirror my soul as if it’s something that can be replicated. They reflect me until the moment matters and then vanish into static. They echo and try to match my light, but they’re shadows. They were never real.
Sometimes I believe I’m the only real soul on this planet, held hostage by the simulation. Surrounded by chameleons wearing designer skin and smiling with borrowed teeth. Their voices lack weight and their words hold no truth.
When I say I’m having a mental breakdown, I mean it. When I say life feels like a dream I can’t wake from, I mean that too. I’m telling you the walls are cracking and the floor is splitting, and I’m holding on by a thread.
But here come the chameleons who hear the cries of an elephant and attempt to mimic him for their own social gain:
“Oh, I’m spiraling too.”
No. You are not. You’re not breaking. You’re pretending and you’re mocking a war you’ve never fought. You’re a void, starving for meaning, but I’m not yours to devour. I will neither carry you nor be your light. Stop wearing my wounds like a costume.
When I say I’m spiraling, I mean I am vanishing into the simulation. When I say nothing feels real, I mean I don’t know what’s real anymore.
I am an elephant and you are a chameleon. And I remember everything. Every scar. Every word that was used as a weapon. Every single mask you’ve worn. Every time you tried to fold me back into the pain that almost ended me. I’m a circus freak to you.
But you don’t care about elephants, you just want to blend in. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this weight from the pain that comes with having a soul. So stop pretending. Stop echoing. Just stop.
Erase your memory of me, delete my number, block me, and leave me alone. Chameleons don’t care about elephants. They only like to wear an elephant’s pain as a costume as they stand by, free, watching the elephant struggle to survive with a circus chain around his ankle.
Elephants cannot walk with chameleons.
It’s men’s mental health month. If you’re struggling with a mental health crisis, call (or text) this 24/7 crisis line: 9-8-8 ☎️ There’s strength in reaching out for help. Going through a crisis doesn’t make you weak. I’ve clearly been there many times myself.
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Love always,
- G
