Myriad

And I'm here. In my head. All the time. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

The things I think about are not the things I want you to know about.

Because the person I am to you is not the person I really am.

In my mind, I am a god and a demon and a lover and a poet.

In your life, I am just who I am.

To you, I am just another body that presents itself to you and then moves on.

But to me, I am the centre of the universe. I am all that exists and the only reason for existence.

I am here to conquer the universe and shape it to my own design.

I am here to become everything that every man ever wished he could be.

This is what's in my head. This is the place that you cannot see.

This is why I look at you as if to say "Nothing you do will change this. Nothing at all."

What you don't know. What you can't know. Is that I'm a man who spends most of his day searching for the threads of humanity in himself and the world around him. Sparks of life and love and lust and loss. The things that make the universe real.

How many times in my mind have I run away screaming at the insanely depressing and indifferent that spews out of every orifice, of every corner, in every part of the world.

Because the world goes on around me and I can't just sit here and take it.