Why are you here? You really don't care about me, I am unimportant; just a peon for a larger goal. I am but one face in a crowd. But in that crowd I am one of the few that looks away from thier screen of lies. With my words I ask not for recognition, nor rememberance. Only that one person read it and closes thier eyes for but a moment to listen to the truth of it all.
Have you ever known paranoia? That little face that you hold inside, telling you are going to fail. Those eyes you feeling boring into the back of your head at all times. The footsteps that follow you, perfectly in sync with your own, all the way home. The figure that sits at your bed all night while you try to sleep, never moving always watching. That smell that you catch as the wind shifts, the smell of blood and death. The breathing that you hear when you hold your own. That monster that exists only to you, only in your mind, that exists only for you. What if it wasn’t in your mind?
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