It was me, at least what I wanted to be, I was the first to break the conscious, though it was considered strange; perhaps, it was a necessary aspect of my survival. Escapism was the key to staying optimistic, and to continue; I used it and through it, the one who created it; and thus myself, the fantasist of the Fantasy. It would refine my everyday thoughts into the rudimentary fuel, to emancipate myself from this scene of self in-twirling prospect, that knowingly would consume me, with no proper release. Through it I gained the cipher to better understand conscious and the world within it.
To defy conscious as reality, though narrow, in t