Trapped in a joke

Yes, you weren't there, again. I have less fingers than the many important times you've been away living your own important life. And I really mean it, I hope YOU, and your clones who keep doing the same to me, are ok. I certainly do.

I'm sorry to insist, it's just that I'm tired of following ghosts and hearing the cold echo of your last whispers bounce against my ears every time I feel alone.

All of this was supposed to be a game, instead it feels like a fucking joke.