A monster...
He exists, ravenous. Seeking more, always more.
His mind ill at ease until exposed once again to flashing lights, to horrific ideas, imagery, flaccid tittering stimulations of the rods and cones in his eyes. His brain hardly registers anymore, his memory fails him for days and weeks and months.
He is always hungry, and never satisfied. It is not his fault, he has been possessed. An evil spirit lives in the hands and pockets of man.
I want to walk on the snow and leave no footprints.
I want to be forgotten for decades.
I want to sprint naked through frozen landscapes.
I want to wade in bogs untrammeled by man through autumnal evening light.
I want to see my ribs through the dirt-caked tan skin stretched across my body.
I want to count scars by firelight.
I want to be feared.
I want to suffer.
I want to be cured again.
I want to be free.
I want.
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