Who is hurting, you, what is his name, what does he look like well, well does he look like to you? Well he is a tall spirit, he smiles a lot, he knows more about the mode of “self” and configuring what “self” actually is. He tends to cry a lot, I mean he told me, he needs to cry, because if he doesn’t he will become trapped…no..no…no. I have said to much, he is walking in, he never wanted to get in the mind of the mirror, I know he told me to tell you that to distract you, to take you away from what you were initially inquiring of. He chants, they echo through the pink walls of his mind, his mind of classical literature, cartoons, Christianity, Mozart, Drugs all standing in this river of grasping confusion for a better intimacy. Better way of being, better way of using confusion for the better. I know, it sounds as if he is the victim, but he can easily point out, the damage he inflicts on himself. Right now, he is running away from sleep, to catch…to catch…that term, you know it, everybody asks for it, have their own interpretation of it…success, yeah he told me has to catch success, he told me his Queen’s need to know, that these gifts are part of a plan bigger than him. He is so soft, a soft child’s whisper….If you are looking for the murderer, ask yourself where he really lies.