a spin on autofiction.

uncaring and unreasonable. i don't really care if the form is not done and that safety could be compromised. time seems to pass even slower when one is bothered. i am a goth. i want to do morbid things manifested by my abjected imagination. the border of reality has been redefined, only to those who have the gift of natural acquisition of taste. that special eye; so very often, i think of myself as one of the privileged. i look down on those i deemed low, with no definition, no pre-requisites, only my own terms. i am like that. no one could tell me their selves; they have no identity. i shape them in my mind and they are what i shaped them. narrow but superior.