<div style="background-color:#FFFFBF; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><span style="font-family: Mona Lisa;"><span style="color: #000000"><span style="font-size: 130%; line-height: 116%;"> <div style="text-align: center;">Night Vale Daily Journal<br/>The Truth of it All - an article by Myla D'auvey<br/><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">December 31, 2015</span></div><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">Hello, citizens of Night Vale. You all know who I am. Or do you? Do you really know me? The kind of person I am? The sick or wonderful things I do to bring you news from the Daily Journal? It's a scary thing, how you could not know so many things about a person and still believe you can read them like the back of your hand. Don't worry. It's okay. I usually like to believe "ignorance is bliss." Sometimes, it truly is. But not now. At this moment I, Myla D'Auvey, have come to give you the truth.<br/><br/>I do think it is difficult, my job. Why, you ask? Well, simply because I have taken up the responsibility of unmasking the truth for you dear readers. What is so difficult about this? How can I unmask the truth when in reality, truth is merely an illusion based off of your matter of opinion? Take those feral dogs from way back when. They existed... but they didn't. They were merely plastic bags... but they were feral dogs. Without sustainable evidence, or even <span style="font-style: italic">with</span>, truth to one person will always be a matter of their opinion. The stubbornness and conceitedness that resides in the hearts of us lowly humans always makes sure of that. What is my "matter of opinion"? After many hours of research, I have concluded that those harmless plastic bags were in fact feral dogs. Yes, I researched. No, my research did not consist of breaking into the Mayor's office to skim through her files. On a random note, you really should consider a case for those pens strewn all over the inside of your desks second drawer. Digression.<br/><br/>If most of you haven't already heard there happened an unfortunate incident, or a few really, during the holidays in which two Night Vale residents lost their lives. Death is a sad thing. What's even more sad is that I was unable to give a full article due to the Daily Journal being closed and the Secret Police exuding heavy agitation towards any and every resident interested in this case. Worry not. I'll get to the bottom of this. But unfortunately for now I cannot offer you new news. So I type this article simply to remind you, residents: Truth is an illusion. That, my friends, is the truth. Happy New Year.</span></span></span></span></div><br/><br/>New Years had been no different than any other day. Myla did not participate in any events as there was really nothing she was interested in participating in after submitting her article to the Daily Journal. There was also the case of the injured and dead Night Vale residents over the holidays that she had been working on for a future article. The residents of Night Vale needed the truth... or what they wanted to perceive as the truth. The sad part of it all was the risk. Still, risk was nothing new to Myla. She, on many occasions, had gone to great lengths to expose hidden conspiracies.<br/><br/>Myla was up before the morning sun as usual. Parts of her body was streaked with many hues and tones of blue, grey, red, and yellow to match the mostly finished abstractly painted canvas in front of her. Between 10 pm and 7 pm, Myla was never dressed in anything more than underwear if home alone. Since she had off of work on this particular day, she really had no reason to get dressed at all. But looking down at the empty paint can beside her, Myla decided it was best to use her free time to get more supplies for her art. "If anything, I could probably get some opinions on the latest happenings over the holidays." It would definitely help her article. Leann Hart was probably already halfway done with hers. "It's ridiculous how a person who doesn't even exist could be such an inconvenience."