Lireal… it’s a nice name… The doctors let me eat lunch outside my room, with others. There was a girl there, her name was… Lireal… I love the way it rolls off my tongue, slow and sweet and… sensual… Honey’s nectar. If that makes any sense.
But that’s the good thing about being crazy, you never have to make any sense.
There were also books there, I like books… I liked books. I promised Lireal I’d read her a book tomorrow if I would. She said she would like that… or maybe I said that… maybe she didn’t talk at all, or maybe she didn’t exist at all. Like Lewis… he never existed, the doctors say he never existed, just a manifestation of my mental illness.
But… thoughts exist, don’t they? Truth exist, none of these are physical things, Lewis was a thought, he was a truth… but the doctors wouldn’t understand that…