Theres this thing.

[emoeno]

Theres this thing Ive been thinking about a lot lately.
This thing doesnt exist.
This thing isnt tangeble, and the language it speaks to me isnt heard.
I hear nothing but my own voice speaking back to me, alone in my room.
This thing is sometimes much different depending on what form I choose it to take.
This thing is entirely fatacy, entirely fictitious.
Although the inspiration can be found in reality, the actions of this thing are entirely coreographed by myself.
No one else holds the key to controling this thing, nooone else in the world knows of its existance (until now of course).
This thing loves me when I choose it to.
It hates me at my will, it fucks me when I want fucking, and it comferts me when I feel like the world is callapsing slowily onto me.
I dictate its interactions, I control how it treats me.
Others cannot see it, and I do not think of it until the others are gone.
The thing changes what it belives, what it does,a nd how it acts, depending on what I want.
I must stress that it doesnt exist.
I must be clear when explaining that its all in my head.
I only think of this thing when im alone, so that I am never alone.
Because I fear being alone.
I never want to be alone.
I am always alone.
But when I think of this thing,
I dont think about reality.
When I think of this thing, I dont have to hurt.
When the thing is in the room, my life is perfect.
I am loved.
I am wanted.
I am needed.
I am happy.