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My little bird....
I wish she could have stayed longer. You see, she escaped from my cage. The little fuck. She will die for this.
No... she will hurt. And she will become mine. I'll ring her little neck, and then she'll stay. Forever.
I recently had an odd dream, where my little bird was leaning over me, and telling me that it was all okay, that I would get better, that I would wake up in the real world soon. I grabbed her and screamed at her, but the cruel doctors with the masks sent me back here, where I have to chase her, and it makes me so angry that I could break my house to find her. No, I wouldn't go so far as to do that. I love my table, and my knife. They won't leave me. They are truly mine, and they wouldn't leave me even if they could.
But They don't want me to leave. They assault me in my own head, and tell me that I'm worthless, that I'm nothing. They will pay for that.
You see, you can't just do that. Because when you do, you're in the way.
I walked out of my secret place and went to the place where They are.
They are the problem. So I eliminated them. I destroyed them. And the doctors with the masks invaded and took away my life, for they are afraid that my world will bleed into theirs. It will. And it will destroy them.
I need to look for my bird. Why did she leave? Why?
She didn't have to. It would only hurt for a little while, and she would be fine for all of the rest of the time.
But at least They are gone. I don't have anything to do anymore. I guess I should make the paintings. The mosaics. The sculptures. The art.
What to make it out of, you think? I have the most beautiful reds and oranges and yellows, but the blues and greens are lost. They took them away from me. I guess I'll need to make them.
Well, I guess I just have to wait.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

My little bird....
I wish she could have stayed longer. You see, she escaped from my cage. The little fuck. She will die for this.
No... she will hurt. And she will become mine. I'll ring her little neck, and then she'll stay. Forever.
I recently had an odd dream, where my little bird was leaning over me, and telling me that it was all okay, that I would get better, that I would wake up in the real world soon. I grabbed her and screamed at her, but the cruel doctors with the masks sent me back here, where I have to chase her, and it makes me so angry that I could break my house to find her. No, I wouldn't go so far as to do that. I love my table, and my knife. They won't leave me. They are truly mine, and they wouldn't leave me even if they could.
But They don't want me to leave. They assault me in my own head, and tell me that I'm worthless, that I'm nothing. They will pay for that.
You see, you can't just do that. Because when you do, you're in the way.
I walked out of my secret place and went to the place where They are.
They are the problem. So I eliminated them. I destroyed them. And the doctors with the masks invaded and took away my life, for they are afraid that my world will bleed into theirs. It will. And it will destroy them.
I need to look for my bird. Why did she leave? Why?
She didn't have to. It would only hurt for a little while, and she would be fine for all of the rest of the time.
But at least They are gone. I don't have anything to do anymore. I guess I should make the paintings. The mosaics. The sculptures. The art.
What to make it out of, you think? I have the most beautiful reds and oranges and yellows, but the blues and greens are lost. They took them away from me. I guess I'll need to make them.
Well, I guess I just have to wait.