When my mind lets go, this happens. Ha.

I was beginning to think it was all just nonsense. The beginnings of it felt like the trappings of my own imagination and I thought what made it real was other people witnessing it. I would go from place to place observing the speculations others would make of it and I would feel free. To go against the wall would be my inner eternity and I fear that then no would have the ability to take me away. The spiraling of my beliefs was the first breath of my decline, and in it I would place my most precious things. So there was no other way to recreate than to not face it alone. I brought lovers along with me, mostly men, some just aesthetics to my personality that held no physical attraction whatsoever. I would gather them up from within my mind and give them things within dreams that I never could in real life. They saw good in me when I played them out, that they had never seen in our physical companionship. So we'd be up all night and I would ask them: "Is this not the light of day?" And they being the temporary beings that they were, would just take more of what made me myself and fail to listen, much the same as before I had taken them with me to my designs.

I can't ask anyone of a single thing outside the width of my mind. I'm too afraid to burden them and that they will seek persons who are brighter than I, so as not to be alone within the dark of their rooms. I am a manmade ocean of salt. I am a haven for people who are too late to be saved and too late to want to save themselves. I am looked to for support by those who are stronger than I am, though they don't realize it because I emanate that type of sickness. I lure people in with self-hatred so strong that they think it's made up in a game of modesty. It's not something I look for in others, therefor I've tossed it away within myself. I can't begin to make a mark upon people with originality while realizing at the same time that there is none of that object left. I don't mind taking traits from others, as it means the good people will carry on through me and live throughout a life they never thought they would affect. It's painless and productive, while it is the thing that I just barely have enough strength to carry out. Of all the times I've tried to strive on my own, I've needed someone better than me to help me through. Maybe my sense of control is flawed, probably permanently too. But it is just a requirement and this place is filled with unpleasant ones at that.