second fragment
A catastrophe is nothing compared to the slow, certain erosion of one's will by the monotony of sameness. And yet, it seems that just as one has grown used to the sureness of insanity, an event must inevitably occur to remind the dreamer that refuge is sought only with good reason. So it was, that my grim task of living was momentarily interrupted. Perhaps it is that I chose the path of certain suffering because it is easier than uncertain suffering. Only she could have possibly reached into the depths of my mind, and looked upon what I had become. She pulled me from my sinking pit of despair, only to cast me into another. It must begin again, I suppose, seasons change, yet I alone shall remain, untouched by the ravages of the external world. When one has suffered to the extent that discomfort becomes meaningless, it is a bliss beyond all others. It was a very exquisite form of pleasure, to hear her, so full of sadness for my condition which only she was responsible, while I listened, completely detached from the reality of my unhappiness. It is a wonder, to be able to affect others with emotions that you no longer feel. They are like puppets, shadows, not truly real, because they are bound to themselves. There is a price, however. I had traded my humanity for a level of certainty, I would never be influenced by anything out side of my own body. However, it is, perhaps, not wise to entrust well being to a singularly unstable mind, but atleast in a perverse way, I knew that I would be safe from unknown terrors. The hordes of reality held at bay, by my own madness.........