Preliminary

It is not your right to understand, but it is my compulsion to explain. I have nowhere to go from here, no place to write myself but out. I am terrified of the self I am: alone, incomprehensible, impotent. I have avoided certain questions for too long. I have made up answers to them to avoid the constraint of truth.

Nowhere to go but outward and diffuse. Introspection has served me poorly. Personal connection has failed. I provide no background, fewer characters, just me: a canvass for you to misunderstand as I have eluded myself.

I believe that pain is a signal that something is wrong. It is erotic. I seek it. I wallow in the guilt wrought by flawed perception, wrong action. I crave a transcendence that I will never find. I need an escape clause that will never come.

Words control me. Words have failed me. The time to begin is now. This is a first draft.