I am going to tell you the story of the worst dream I've ever had. It goes behind a cut, because frankly, it will be disturbing. It will not be something you will read and feel sorry for me because I had it. I will not blame people for what they say after reading it.
Here goes.
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But if you want to assume that it means you are a monster, there is little anyone can do to convince you otherwise. If you insist on creating another reason to torture yourself, I'm not going to waste anymore time trying to stop you.
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What I'm worried about now is that to properly generate a tale, this was what it took to break down the fearsome writer's block. I say this because upon further review the actual methods used to articulate the situation were actually a tolerable work from me, something I have not said of a single piece in forever.
It is entirely possible that the very root of my fear in this is, in fact, as you said. That it the fear that somehow I am not in control and I am one skipped meal away from barbarism. I almost hope it was a metaphor for slaughtering whatever has kept the words from my soul, that once again I can write. Could be wrong though.
I may never be done torturing myself. I wish I was.
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