When I dream, I see only what I want to see, the people I love falling in love with me, the object I desire most becoming mine at no expense, the wonderful house which I deserve to have becoming a home. But it is not of greed that I see these images, it is of desperation. Anyone looking down on me now wouldn't see me looking back up to them; they would only hear the words that I speak. A macabre dialect designed to manipulate their minds and compel them into that pure sense of guilt that we all fight for like a vision of injustice. And when the stage is set, and the music begins to play, here I am still in my dream world of splendour and success. Reality is a bitch, but reality is also real.
