Are you insecure of your own symbolic image, too insecure to the point that you undermine my image that you imagine?
When in fact, you will never weaken or reduce my image, because my image is far from your understanding. My image folds and bends into twisted planes beyond reality. My image is not your image.
Fool, you remain a disguise between the odds. You do not know me, in fact, no one in this room knows or will know me.. well perhaps one will. But the very blunt eyes you have, dispose malicious words that attempt to agitate me, only weakening you more.
I stand afar from your plane, I stand watching you torment me, in peace, in peace I am, to remain; not disturbed. I have seen things beyond your capabilities. I have seen odd realities, that even I could not explain! I’ve seen twisted times, of never-discovered realms. I could not explain how I feel or what I see, no one can. It is the line between a genius and insanity. It is living on a isolated floating island that is left in solitude. It is only the fear of myself that dominates me. It is the fear of living, of living alone. Alone, no one capable of understanding you. Only to find that one person who seems to “get you”.
I do not claim myself. I only attempt to merely summarize my words, words not enough to portray the image. The image that you, my friend, cannot see.