I couldn't really say where it started. At what point in my life I became addicted to this. But I think it's about time I faced this fact. I live off my imaginary friends. I live my life, editing it in my mind with my imaginary friends. So much so, that I've found it hard to distinguish what's true and what's false. If I were to take a polygraph test, the results would show that my imaginary friends are real - that's how much I've convinced myself of their existence. I don't quite know how I'm going to explain this. But I'll have a go. I'll try to compare my imagined life with the real course of events, and that way, how sad, and how depressing a person I am can finally be confirmed.