Meagan (n.) - psychoanalysis in a violent, gory manner

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Have you ever had your mind purged by a less-than-enticing idea? The thought simply wracks your thoughts until you feel as if it dominates anything and everything of meaning to you, and before long you find yourself scrambling to convey ideas to paper with a shaky, clammy hand. A mirrored facade of perfection begins to crawl itself into the very crevices of your brain, and your mental state tells you that everything - every word, every description, every detail - has to be completely and utterly flawless. The fervent manners you possess at that moment send you into a sort of panic, and before long you find yourself completely wracked with these thoughts and characters floating around idly.

Welcome to the pit of my mind; my mental "escape" is a fictitious cavern filled to the brim with ideas, thoughts, and influences. Every single word from my mouth relates somewhat to this cave, whether it be in my own schoolwork or my own personal conversations. I cannot escape my own escape. My characters are the dictators in this handcrafted, papier–mâché reality I have formed for myself, and I am a slave to my own ideas. This has spurred my creations forward, and without them even my own veins would seemingly collapse from the sudden withdrawal of this faux realm.

May tyranny remain in the walls of my mind.