the SEVENTH of OCTOBER, TWO THOUSAND and TWENTY.

the world exists only in my head. nothing is real. everything is false, a tragic fantasy.
an eternity of torture, trapped in my pretty little box of suffering.
why is it that i try and adhere to norms when nothing will ever stop me? i am invincible.
i am undeniable. i am everything. how could i be anything else when i created this all?
this, too, is just a fallacy of my perception. but it's difficult to tell the difference these days.
seperating reality from my head is near impossible. thus, i sink deeper into the static blur.
my mind relishes in it's imaginary bloodshed, it's imaginary holiness.
my clarity is just the ruins of my mind.

take me back!