INTRO
Oneirataxia
My mind is a fairytale, at least, that’s what I make of it. They say I’m special because of this. This small thing. I don’t have any friends except for what friends my mind wants to make up. They keep me away from people because their scared of what I might do. I make my imagination a reality. Everything I ever think of, or imagine happening, all of it is real. But nobody knows how this works. And neither do I. The problem started when I was younger, about 6 years old when my father passed and needed to process it. I only had my mind. I imagined him being there and I’d see him too, but it was our secret. Now I have even more friends I want. But nobody knows them. Nobody can see them.
