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The repetitious quality of the thoughts of an unravelling mind—and the maddening hyper-fixation it forces upon its victim—is horrific. Imagine having your own stream of thought turned against you, hellbent on flaring every exposed nerve and rubbing every raw surface of an already scalded brain.
Compulsion, they call it. It's not too different from convulsion—one is the betrayal of the body while the other is the betrayal of the mind, really.
Convulsions, compulsions, a brain that refuses to cooperate.
Cruel.