041
I am drunk on attention, high on praise. I am holding the most pristine of blades against my neck, flirting with a death that is madly in love with me. I am on the edge of a tower made of ash, shrieking in pure ecstasy as I dance. I am gulping down my genius, breathing in the crystal dust that is my essence in its most potent form. I am at the height of my intoxicating delusion, gripping the burning stars and searing my hands with their frozen heat. I am an insurmountable mountain hiking up itself. I am the unmovable and the unstoppable colliding. I am the water that fills the bottomless wells, the matter that saturates the infinite universe and the word that answers all questions. I am the absolute lunacy of nothingness finding something—everything—in itself. I am breathless, thoughtless, soulless, massless, waveless. I am the singularity that bends light itself under its will. I am in an unadulterated, unjustified and self-destructive mania that has no zenith.
I want to scream.