I am a simple man wrestling with the simple but obscured truths of the complex world, especially in the stillness of the night as I recline in my expansive bed, gazing at the ceiling. In these quiet hours, thoughts unbidden flood my mind, despite my reluctance.

The guiding principle of my life is to forge friendships solely with those who recognise their own idiocy. People like these are a rare breed indeed, for wisdom to which we cling comes more readily in the privacy of one’s own mind. I’m not being critical; I’m equally a fool.…

If only such an artefact existed, one that could save me from an existence worthy of a romantic poet. An effect that could remove the romantic part, provide me with a life of uninterrupted pain-free creation, one free from past phantoms and scars. However, it does not exist. Thus, here…