What little I slept contained hallucinatory dreams, tied with my half conscious surroundings. As is common in my experience with such times, I was wakened over and over with a new reality. Two teams of procedural profilers argued what my hand-carved wooden organs meant. Hunter siblings and their otherworldly friends tried to save me, unaware that there is no Thing possessing. A wizard who just needs to admit hes a cowboy enveloped me in a circle, chanted arcane pseudolatin under his breath to chase away nightmares which change my skin to ice. Each glimpse of consciousness a different setting, all trying to free or save me, all imaginary and fictional. Even in fever dreams I wont imagine a life other than solitude.
Posted on: Fri, 05 Sep 2014 06:24:21 +0000
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