7 Artificial Nocturne City

It started as a thought. I slept and it became a dream. I woke up and it became a daydream. I got more sad, more disgusting, older; and it became my Vision. And as I Decayed, it didn't become my life, but the place I lived while I rejected my reality. I never had a Home, and when I thought I did, it would collapse and crush whatever was left of me. But I had finally created a Forever Home, a dream cyberpunk land with endless possibilities and no imperfections, to protect me and hold me forever; no disappointments. At this point I'm not able to tell the difference between dreams and reality anymore, so it's the first time my Home feels real. Sometimes I think I'm in the real, material world, but I can still see the endless neon lights and the perfect tracklist that boils my Artificial Nocturne City with noisy punk, mysterious goth, emotional scream, delicious gore. I don't think I've ever lived in your world; the real world, before. I used to sit in front of glasses filled with poison, pushing them down my throat, without feeling a thing — because I could only taste the celestial ambrosia that touched my lips in the Artificial Nocturne. All the time. I was Never here. I never thought it was possible, but I fooled everyone. With my perfect, lovingly, hurting and beautiful City, why would I bother standing in this warm asphalt while I have to hear my heart being broken for the 100th time? Your heart doesn't break in my Artificial Nocturne City; it just turns into music. That's why I stay here and I don't care about my decaying heart, still getting broken day after day without medical care. I was never here... why would I be?