Silas fleck

Neon lights flicker. Cars hiss by. The hum of a city pretending everything’s normal. Voiceover begins… “People say the apple never falls far from the tree.My tree had poison in the roots. Arthur Fleck—the man the world laughed at until it stopped laughing. Harley Quinn—chaotic brilliance wrapped in danger and perfume. And me? I’m what happens when two wild cards have a kid and think love might be enough.I didn’t ask for this legacy. I didn’t ask for the shadow their names cast on every room I enter.But I carry it. In my bones. In the way I flinch when someone laughs too hard, or when I catch my reflection and wonder which face I’m wearing today. I’m messed up. That’s not a cry for help. That’s a simple truth. But I don’t wear it like a badge. I wear it like a secret. See, I walk these streets like everyone else—suit, smile, paycheck. My demons? They take the late train and sleep beneath the floorboards. I’ve got jokes, sure. Good ones. But I know when the punchline cuts too close. So I laugh. I love. I try. Not because I’m normal. But because I’m choosing not to be defined by the madness that made me.”