Outerhead nonhuman, straight teeth and three people will spook me. I dart back into the darkness. Faces look ugly when you're alone...
I fear that I may be physically weak due to my sickness. At that point one can only resort to trickery or desperate attempts to hide. People fear that you are vulnerable. Someone does, even if they don't care about you. People are wicked. It's easy for them to commit cannibalism, or at least to close their eyes while it happens. This is a disease which I, using dreams, try to inoculate myself against. Him (dreams) and I fear this greater sickness. The spirit dies. Torture should disturb you. Pray that it still disturbs you.
One night when I was a child, I sank into that comfortable twilight halfway point between sleeping and waking. On the television it was the movie. The Neverending Story. Comfortable. I really lay in twilight then. Warmth. I hope that is what the state of being dead feels like, you know? What do you hope the state of being dead (not dying) feels like? Well, though I wish to be asleep, the world needs more terrified, pissing-yourself, honest knights. I have too much to do, so I have little time to sleep. Barely enough time to dream.