I'm god. "Reality" is the product of my imagination gone rampant. An unending dream, sometimes akin to a nightmare. My mental illness is the root of all troubles in the world. Other people are my multiple personality disorder made manifest. I've died several times but I'm still alive, I have lasting injuries from some of the deaths, I don't heal from them perfectly. I am a feverish corpse that walks and breathes. I probably don't even have to breathe.