Strain of Memories

The bit in a black hole you simply can't escape.

Artist in a never ending quest to find a date. Working on a film project. Things work out, they gotta... I still... have... faith...

Yes, you guessed it. I'm doing my Job. I often ask that which I act out the ghost, I spent hours hiding from: Why do you care of me more than thyself? Then the entity becomes even more hostile and threatens bloodshed then says: It's my job to keep people like you down. Careful to exist in the mind of a jaded master it seems. But masters don't scare me anymore because they succeeded for a long time already thus the only way forward was to build resilience; well, to balance out my desire to exist as everything I can be and what is deemed acceptable. I will push acceptable to the absolute limit or I waste my talent.

Anyways perpetually looking for backup dancers. It will frustrate that which reflects upon it to no end but I think I can pull it off because I'm shockingly honest and confident.