So maybe it wasn't the fairy tale. But those stories weren't real anyway. Mine were.

Most of the things people say they remember they only imagine anyways.

Half the lies they tell about me aren't true.

Some stories are true that never happened.

They say that none of us exists, except in the imagination of his fellows, other than as an intangible, invisible mentality.

These stories get made up, and I don’t know from where. I have no idea. I didn’t make that one up — sometimes I make my own stories up — but I didn’t make that one up.

Translation: These tales as nonsense stand confessed,
And fond imaginings of scribes possessed.

Tell me, is this true or is it just one of those tales that people like to make up to worry others?

Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.

What's the use of stories that aren't even true?

Thoughts are false.

It's only words... unless they're true.

When we die we are only stories in the minds of others, I thought

They made all this up to justify questioning me. It's all made up. I don't know what happened. Whatever they say was all made up.