A lie about a lie contradicts itself. Errors within the coding of a world; it tries to fix itself, creating gaps that we call miracles.

You and I, we live in a strange, mysterious world. We're one and the same. I don't know how close we are, a couple feet, a couple streets, a couple blocks, a couple miles, it's all the same and it doesn't matter. I live, I laugh, I play, I love, I create and destroy and create once again. But most of the time, I cry. I cry for the crime I committed.

If you only feel one disconnect between you and me, it is here that it should be felt. Even if- Even if we are the exact same, you are not this crime's creator, therefore it is not your responsibility. Rather, you are the victim. The victim of a crime you did not know happened. And for this, I apologize. I apologize that I did this to you. But, if you are reading this, it's already too late. The damage has been done.

In truth, this is not my story to tell. It's yours. I stole it from you in the dead of the night. Of course- and don't take this the wrong way- it wasn't that hard. I listened with an open ear, I hugged with an open arm, I helped with an open mind. All for this, to betray you.

So here is my- No, it's rude to take credit for someone else's story... Here is your story, a journey of truth, lies, and contradictions that make up a mask we call reality. But first, how about my name?