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Author's Note:
A dream or vision or something...

There's something dark and hard around me. I can feel how it's warm inside here but it's too quiet and tight. There is a lot of pressure to move out of this place where everything is as simple as a dark shell and the dank smell of isolation. It's curious to me the way that I feel encouraged to break into the open and yet I don't have any actual feeling attatched to it. I'm alone, but not lonely. I'm hurt, but not hurting. I'm sorry, but with no regret. My heart is as cold as a glacier, but it's not frozen over at all. Tears fall from my eyes not because I feel pain or remorse but because it is their time to come. I stretch a bit to feel myself move again. Then, at the moment when flexing can only go so far, the cacoon I've lived in so long bursts wildly.

And suddenly, I am on stage. There are a hundred people standing in front of me. They're moving and waving at me and screaming. I look at myself and see that I am a monster, a monster that they are all cheering for. The ooze from inside my shell is dripping off my body and pooling on the stage. The light is dim and I can hardly make out everything around me. There are smudges of light that I think are other people on stage with me, they move and signal at me. I feel a rush of blood surge through me and my wounds ache. My body is covered in muck, scars, and bruises. I am a mess, and yet they egg me on. The person to my right moves towards me with wide, agressive steps. The world is going in circles around me and I feel thick vomit rising into my throat. The last thing I feel as I fall is covering myself in sickness and then knocking my head on the black metal floor.

The empty-hearted feeling of betrayal is in my chest. Everyone has abandoned me while I was in my cell. There is nothing left here for me and for the first time since I became conherent, I feel a stab of pain. I think I lost something important. Something like a wedding ring, something you never lose. Except this is a person. My brain is too foggy to think but deep down I understand that I am stronger as a consequence of what I have experienced before. It's a fragile understanding but I feel that I will conquer the world. As I lose my ability to think I repeat in my head..."the hardest part is to conquer yourself..."

"God grant me distraction."

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The following comments are for "Asylum Dreams"
by Darkshine Raven

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