I took a pencil and paper and begin to write.

The result:

“There’s no weather in Wonderhell today. It’s almost as if it’s a vacuum. {vacuum has two u’s…heh.} Time seems like it’s standing still.

God, please, Father Time. Please give me some sort of relief from this stillness, this quietness, this agony. I can’t handle the still, silent torture of night.

I went outside and {of course} it wasn’t as it should be. It was a fuckingroom. There was no Universe. I could sense the absence before I even stepped out the door. And when I did…it was still. So still.

Oh God, I can’t take this anymore. I can feel the vacuum inside of me. In my stomach. It’s sucking all of me into it, collapsing me in on myself. It’s destroying me.

It laughs. Look at all the power it has over me.

I try to draw it. I can envision it in my head, but when I try to stick it on paper it resists with vigor. Maybe it’s too horrible to exist in this world without a host. Or maybe it knows that if I embody it, some of it’s power over me is taken away.

Huh. And thus a character is born.”

I stopped taking my anti-depressants. I didn’t like the “artificial happiness”. I’m starting to think that it’s a sacrifice I’m going to have to make.

PS: If anyone can think of a name for this derealization character, feel free to throw the idea out there. I was thinking agony because that’s pretty accurate, but I like loneliness too because after all, I do feel like I’m the only person who exists.