I feel empty inside, but I think writing about it will help me cope. Here is some prose I wrote:
Am I dreaming again?
This doesn’t look like the dreams that I am used to... Worse.
At times I felt I rode on the air, and all was crystal clear.
But those dreams shattered, and so often I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror.
Time has done that to me.
Before, I could eat all I want and not worry about a thing.
Now, my skin an unnatural hue, my world overrun by vermin, it’s as if I were under a curse.
But we all have a yarn to spin, and I am the star of this one.
Do you know who I am?
How many references can you find to my games above?