The feeling

It's 6:50am. I'm drinking, I feel like I am in a state of meaninglessness. I received a letter from my friend in prison. He told me about his perception of reality, and society from a cell. I could tell from the letter, his ideas jumped from one to the next, like he had something to say. I think words themselves, don't really encapsulate emotion or reality. On some things I agreed with him completely. His views on the overall societal norms, I found interesting. How we must succumb to the monopolies of the company overlords. It never fades though, the feeling of difference, the feeling that something inside calls you away from the ideas of your ever perfect reality. The reality that cries out for love, attention, for a home to call your own. That feeling I think, it's ingrained in a specific few, like he, and I. The feeling that something else hides behind our foggy eyes, the feeling that sulks around, and slithers until it finds a hole to hide in. Maybe the hole is relationships, to pretend itself that one would need a lover, to survive, or family to hide behind. Because behind the mask hides true horror, that it needs no body but itself, and that evil that it holds. Or maybe that feeling is money, that it needs to pretend to want, because of survival. Yet, it whimpers for something other than the material. Slither away, young snake, let yourself hide, because the world is evil and cruel. Lest you want to perish in fire and beatings, you must hide.