It's officially happening. My brain is now a swirling cauldron of creatures. I can't see what's fanfiction anymore, everything meshes together in a glorious jumble mess. Every conversation sounds like dialogue, and I can't stop analyzing about the story. I'm living, breathing fiction, and there's no going back.
I've become a walking meme. My slumber are filled with fan theories. This is both the worst thing that's ever occurred to me.
Consumed by Fixation: A Brain Drain Tale
The walls/borders/boundaries were/had become/turned into a canvas, splashed with vivid/jarring/bizarre colors/shades/hues of her obsession/fixation/craving. Every inch reminded/spoke/whispered of him. He was/She was/It was everywhere, embedded/woven/infused into the very fabric of her reality/perception/worldview. She scoured/delved/raked through every/any/all detail, seeking/hunting/grasping at fragments/glimpses/shadows of his essence/being/presence. Sleep was a fleeting/precious/forgotten luxury, replaced by manic/frantic/obsessive rituals designed/constructed/orchestrated to draw him closer/keep him within reach/maintain the illusion. The line between sanity/reason/order and madness/chaos/delusion was blurred/lost/discarded, leaving her adrift in a sea of unhinged/frantic/desperate yearning/need/hunger.
Drowning in Fandom Thoughts flooding
It's like my brain is a fandom soup, constantly brewing with ideas. One minute I'm analyzing character motivations, the next I'm fantasizing about headcanons. My notes app is overflowing with dreams and I can barely keep up. It's exhausting, but check here hey, at least I'm never bored.
There's Absolutely Escape from This Delicious Rot
The aroma wafting through the crumbling ruins was irresistible. A symphony of fermentation played on your nerves, a chorus of sweet notes promising revelation unlike any other. This isn't just rot, it's perfection. A dance of life and death, honored by the persistent march of time. Dive to the allure.
Devour the decay before it's consumed.
Living Rent-Free in My Headspace
Some days it's/it is/it's a beautiful thing/concept/situation. Other days, it's a constant/an unending/a relentless battle/struggle/war against my own/inner/subconscious voice/thoughts/narrator.
I try/Attempt/Strive to silence/ignore/muffle the noise/static/chatter sometimes, but it's/it is/it always there. Like a chorus/ensemble/choir of opinions/ideas/critiques constantly/always/perpetually performing/singing/humming.
Maybe/Perhaps/Possibly that's the point/trick/purpose though, right? To keep/make/foster me engaged/active/aware even/especially/particularly when I'm/I am/I feel alone/isolated/disconnected.
Still/Regardless/Despite this, I wouldn't trade it for the world. This unending/ever-present/constant dance/dialogue/conversation with myself, it's what makes/shapes/defines me. It's who I am/become/truly.
Brain Cells Gone, Replaced by Fandom
They say your brain is wired differently after you get deeply invested/obsessed/consumed by a fandom/universe/community. Like, totally replaced. My neurons used to be about solving problems/puzzles/equations, now it's all about deciphering lore/meta/Easter eggs and crafting the perfect/ideal/ultimate fanfiction/theory/meme. Don't get me wrong, I still know how to function/exist/breathe in the real world. But my dreams? Purely canonical/headcanon/crossover now. You can practically hear the theme song/battle music/opening narration playing on repeat.
- Maybe/Perhaps/Totally that explains why I'm always talking about it/this/that.
- Can't/Won't/Just don't blame me, though! It's just so amazing/awesome/incredible.