( Sort of a "poetic" depiction of the man within the monster. )
The monster, the man, the ghost lost in the living world. Always aching for acceptance, scorned when he is denied. A vengeful spirit set out to make the world pay for his personal injustices. Such a broken soul, such a confused heart to think that sending the world into the flames of Hell will make his a simpler burden. Does he not know that the pained screams of children as innocent as he once was will haunt his nightmares?
And, yes, even the God of Fear cannot escape his dreams, for they are what keeps the man tethered to the monster. For the nightmares, the screams, remind the man of what he once was before the madness took control.
As he sits alone at his desk in the dead of night, reading over and over the same notes, the man wonders for the first time in… years, perhaps, what has brought him to this point. His mind goes over the events that led to his first time donning the Scarecrow costume. He was not loved. He was not appreciated. His intelligence went unnoticed because he simply didn't fit in.
Why did he not fit in? Because he was a bastard, because he was studious, because he'd rather spend his evenings reading Joyce and Conrad than spend them getting drunk, because his fascination with the human body stopped only at anatomical study, because he preferred the Rat Pack to the Brat Pack? There were a great many speculations, all of them true. The doctor was bitter, angry that it still troubled him so deeply. He'd gotten his revenge, had he not?
The madman laughs to himself. How ridiculous, to fall back into the past. Did he learn nothing? Obviously. Pressing the thoughts that once kept him awake in the dead of night to the monster thatensured that his mind would not become a splattered painting on the surrounding walls. Pushing back forbidden fears, forbidden emotions that he'd long since eradicated, to the creature that fed on such weakness.
Pain only mad it stronger, which in turn made Jonathan Crane closer to becoming nothing more than myth.