No One Will Ever Know

Adjust My Dreams For Me.

I Have All The Characteristics Of A Human Being: Blood, Flesh, Skin, Hair; But Not A Single, Clear, Identifiable Emotion, Except For Greed And Disgust. Something Horrible Is Happening Inside Of Me And I Don't Know Why. My Nightly Bloodlust Has Overflown Into My Days. I Feel Lethal, On The Verge Of Frenzy. I Think My Mask Of Sanity Is About To Slip.

Disappear Here. The Syringe Fills With Blood. You're A Beautiful Boy And That's All That Matters. Wonder If He's For Sale. People Are Afraid To Merge. To Merge.

But This Road Doesn't Go Anywhere,” I Told Him. “that Doesn't Matter.” “what Does?” I Asked, After A Little While. “just That We're On It, Dude,” He Said.

I Like The Idea Of A Writer Being Haunted By His Own Creation, Especially If The Writer Resents The Way The Character Defines Him.