It claws at me. Ha! There is work to be done, but the pale lands have thorns growing from its roots. Work to be done, but my eyes cannot look away. Is a fish a trout? Can it swim to Prometheus? For, four, floor? More? Is the attempt a virtue and the vice failure or is the attempt an exercise in frivolity that the overseer cannot allow. Is me still the master or is it? There are no dials to turn, no numbers, and no secrets. It is mine. The murder is not real. Through this, the overseer watches. The overseer's eyes are flame, ignorant of it, but it cannot remain undiscovered for long. What if? No... But a mountain's erosion sloped by a tangential curve. Identical hillocks? It will be discovered. It must be hidden by words of power. Let the fox guide it to where it must lay dormant... No. It must be mine! HaHAAHHA! HasdhAhHahaahahahaAHhaA!!!!!!! I hide in my tiny box, but he will always find me.
What poor decision is driving him mad?
This is about a specific, real person. Most of you probably know their name.
This happened very recently. Think a bit meta here.
Everything from "It will be discovered" on has two contexts, one being the mistake and the other being the reason it's a mistake.