I Was Never More Alive Than When

Weren't We All Crazy In Our Sleep? What Was Sleep, After All, But The Process By Which We Dumped Our Insanity Into A Dark Subconscious Pit And Came Out On The Other Side Ready To Eat Cereal Instead Of Our Neighbor's Children?

In That Tremendous Flash Of Freedom, On My Way To Do The Thing For The First Time, Sanctioned By Almighty Harry, I Receded, Faded Back Into The Scenery Of My Own Dark Self, Whole The Other Me Crouched And Growled. I Would Do It At Last, Do What I Had Been Created To Do. And I Did.

I Mean, Really: What Kind Of Person Could Possibly Dislike Me?

It Took Me A Moment. I Blinked, And Suddenly It Swam Into Focus And I Had To Frown Very Hard To Keep Myself From Giggling Out Loud Like The Schoolgirl Deb Had Accused Me Of Being. Because He Had Arranged The Arms And Legs In Letters, And The Letters Spelled Out A Single Small Word: Boo. The Three Torsos Were Carefully Arranged Below The Boo In A Quarter-circle, Making A Cute Little Halloween Smile. What A Scamp.

Whatever Made Me The Way I Am Left Me Hollow, Empty Inside, Unable To Feel. It Doesn't Seem Like A Big Deal. I'm Quite Sure Most People Fake An Awful Lot Of Everyday Human Contact. I Just Fake It All. I Fake It Very Well, And The Feelings Are Never There.