Hi, I’m Logen. Above is a picture of me. My friends think I’m crazy. I agree, though I can’t explain why.
My head brims with stories, which I’d soon like to pen. They come to me when I dream, fantasise or feel depressed. They act as a talisman against my reality that sometimes is sad. I fear it.
Reality is what we perceive to be true, while fantasy is what we hope will exist. The line is blurred between the two. One can only be hopeful.