In my dream, I was attached to a crimson razor blade, I had used it to commit suicide in order to get into purgatory to hang out with my relatives and friends. Each time, I had miraculously resurrected my remains from the dead by running away from the light in the tunnel. I had also worked with my dear sharp friend to relieve the anger and fear. I must admit, it was very easy to use, a little malicious bastard knew how to kill the pain instantly through breaking the surface of skin tissue, going straight to the core of a problem.
What happened to the blood, it must have spurted all over the place? ‘No’, the manipulative moron replied- ‘Your blood was drained off to avoid any unnecessary mess in my decaying shed. You have become an obedient creature who is going to live under my conditions….’
I don’t know, I start to panic,
What to do?
What to do? Mum, help me?
I wake up drenched in sweat. Am I afraid of mental pain which never goes away, solitude, or eternal unhappiness?
I pledge to flout convention, reject tradition, and dwell in my own world.