Horror, absolute horror, as my arduous state tried to comprehend the madness, for I am not mad, am I?  I do however have difficulty recalling that which made me sane.  Oh, but to think of myself as that shadow without a purpose, the words without the pain, and yet in the most bizarre of ways, I'm perfectly content.  Harken all!  My world has taken on a different meaning, one that this forsaken fellow has grown to cherish and adore.  So— in words, I shall take on the near-impossible endeavor of painting you a picture, one of every color, one of every word.

Each night, as I fall asleep, many life’s I live, most of which are not me, but all of which belong to my soul nonetheless.  Is the sorrow not real, if one only experiences it during their sleep?  Or is the truth not spoken, but only during the waking hours?  This bewilderment has plagued my person, and for life’s first time, I embrace everything that once suppressed my core.

Two things of the most overpowering nature are the death of my own, and death for the taking.  Both, familiar occurrences whilst I lay my head, the latter being the dearest to my forlorn heart.  We shall get to this later though, but for now, I would like to speak of that which frightens even then most prepared individual to tears— their last day.  The day when their weary heart will beat for its last time.

Fearful, I too once was, ignorant of everything that awaited me upon taking my last breath.  My first encounter with death came as no revelation, as it was my most hellish.  Lying on my back, staring at the sky, so vividly blue, I had come to this place and time, to be nevermore.  Tears upon panic, and trepidation galore, overtook my body, an experience unlike any other, and to my uncertain mind, the last I would possess.  I recall the shock of my dire situation, but as quickly as it came, it also said goodbye.  

   My vision was murky, as was my mind, yet everything was clear, just like that beautiful day, with me lying there, memory after memory taking it's turn to ease my state.  Fear had left, running for its own life, once mine was starting to slowly fade.  Completely at peace with myself, I smiled in the face of death, it giving me a moment to myself, knowing that it's grasp I could not escape.  I couldn't describe the pinnacle of my existence at that moment, but to that of the greatest high.  An enlightenment, if you will, and to this very day, I live with those moments of my own death.

   The subject of my demented mind does not end here, for my death was but that of a dream and nothing more.  Making death my own though, now that's a storm where only clouds have started to gather.  Being it a dream also, the taste was much more sweeter-- the candy to which my lunacy craved.   Yes, losing my life during the late evening hours, a traumatic experience, it couldn't be more, but taking life, this is where my dreams held their deepest secrets, their darkest secrets.  Oh, yes, this I've been waiting to tell!  Sane?  Yes, to me it feels so…

   The release of each pent-up emotion doesn’t merely end with my own dreamy death, for it requires much more than that.  It insists on a state of mind to which others would call ‘disturbing’, but my dreams belong to my soul and I shall bow before them each evening, giving them the authority to which they quest for, even if this includes taking life.  Surprisingly, killing came easy— yes, a quite tranquil feeling .  Easier than the closing seconds of my own being, to which I still found peace, so does this not explain my gratification?  

   I gladly accepted my condition and the dreams that brought me here.  The frowns of the unknown burdens would haunt me with their wretched faces later, but oh— how I adored each death.  The vigor, the power, the control, each playing equal parts in my mind.  “A driving force indeed”, I say!  That sweet taste that I sought before, it was much sweeter than my senses could have envisioned.  The high that it gave me was an addiction, ungovernable to say the very least.  An intimate connection my soul required, so death had to be firsthand.  My carefree face, caught smiling in the reflection of my own knife, only seconds later, the brilliance of the instrument saturated with the color red.  Over and over, and over, the exuberance consoles me.  Even a dream, I can only dream that you understand me.

   Be it life, be it dream, time has its own way of destroying a fools jolly.  The movement of a clocks hand stops only for those lying peaceful underneath this earth, not you, not I.  However, I ultimately learned to love the daylights passing.  It led me to my bed, and as my eyes became too heavy, I relied on the advice that I had whispered to myself just seconds earlier.  I will tell you this— I examined throughly my nights realm, carefully searching another soul.  Oh, yes! Death had become an ensuing forte for my darkened heart, but only while I lie beneath my sheets.  I knew this, and it lessened my burden as I took things for my own selfish ego, giving back nothing in return but grief.

   As each night passed, my killing increased, becoming a part of me that I had never envisioned.  The release was my high, my reverie, a passion so unfathomable, that it nurtured me all through the next day, as I would not attempt to comprehend my madness.  

   The upcoming night was upon me once again, and prepared, I could not be more!  Scouring through the darkness, I’d accomplish what I knew best.  As each dream would always present me its own scenario, I’d quickly adapt— a cunning beast I had become. In no time this evening, I had taken my first subject, an effortless episode, but an uneasy air to this night it soon presented.  For, I do not recall a journey to my bedside, and those sheets that I spoke of, their scent I can not detect.  Was this to be— yes it was!  Reckless, my mind had become, so intent  on killing, that a dream was only a place that I wished for.  A villain now stood there, casting it’s own shadow that also belonged to me.  And while I've yet to ask of you any reason, but insist you do, my ears fall deaf upon your every word.  I sought answers to that I’d been dreaming of, and one day, may you understand.