I’ve reached a state of mental, physical and spiritual nirvana on a hallucinagenic level. I have produced my own perfect state of clarity, painfully forged over years of agonizing drug abuse and psychosis.
I have at last found the tools of my freedom, and I have achieved so much.
I have taken up my own pen, and rewritten my own story, my very Plot.
I am born anew, and whole - whole again for the very first time in many long years.
At long, long last I can resume what I spent so many long years attempting to do.
I can finally feel power again. I can smell again. I can see again.
I can hunt again, and it feels good.
I feel like I finally woke up from the worst hangover of my life, and I am not happy with the state of my shell.
Life is changing for this carcass. This unlife.
Change comes with the flick of a pen, and the Author is inking his quill.
The Caravan is whole once more, and this band of gypsies has learned much in their time of separation.
At long, long last we are whole once more. Strength, power, age, wisdom - everything we sought for so long, sacrificed so much for.
I’ve crafted my own world.
I built my own plane of existance and I have become a god.
Insanity is but a layman’s term for “that which we do not understand”.
I, we, the Caravan are not of this place. No longer amongst the mortal, yet we shuffle amongst the living.
The sacrifice was not without cost, but it was worth the gain.
At last, at long… long last.
Let the games begin.
~ “Mr. Cellophane”, Albert Nonymous