A DARK MIND IS A TERRIBLE THING TO WASTE.

"All work and no play makes Rockman seem dull. But changing his name to MegaMan just makes it worse."

My life's pretty complicated. I'll admit that. But it's not like everyone else has it better than me. Some people just make it worse by saying "I'm sorry your life sucks." Then they make it worse than that when say "maybe I could help" when it's not their job to make it better. You know very well of who you are.

Once I was a weak-minded beginner who had no grasp on the darkness that laid before me, like a toddler that had no idea that their father, who was murdered right before their eyes, would never come home again. My mind and will had been twisted by those who found me to be easily tricked by promises of care and love. Later I learned that I was naive in what happened daily during reality, and I soon caved. After-wards, I shifted from what was once a shining beacon of flowery happiness to a masquerading lantern that would burn a silent but ever-knowing flame of "turnabout madness", a flame that would later on spark a dark fire that would touch upon the minds of those who would meet me.

Aside from a gray silence that usually surrounds me, I'm quite fluent in the ways of a side-speaker who's words are rarely given a second though, if someone cares to listen to them. The advice I lay may not seem useful, but in time, it becomes clear. My mind works with an overactive imagination which troubles and excites me. I have a tendency to dig deep holes for myself, but I like excitement like that, and with each new depth of the holes comes a new way to get myself out. On days when it seems the darkness is never-ending, a facade I use is one of a cynical jester whose jokes are as sharp and cutting as a freshly sharpened blade of a sacrificial knife.

My identity is seen on many fronts, but they are not under the same name. The more my count of aliases grows, the bigger the world-wide alliance becomes. Join me, and you shall have kindness. Cross me, and you'll get hurt. Be neutral, and stay off the field. Fetch me peach rings, and I'll be your companion.

I'll like whatever catches my attention. I'll hate whatever pisses me off. Become what you want, and my attitude towards you may change. My fears stem from something I can't pinpoint, including a fear of being crushed and a fear of extensive deformity, yet that doesn't stop me from being amused by freak shows and their dark pasts.

You may call my life a circus, with each event a new performance, and I'll do my worst to provide the best in self-inflicted mental pain. Because who can ever be without self-wrongness and self-doubt. For I am a ringmaster and a puppeteer who controls her own shows and her own actions. And what I do, I will do with great pleasure.

So, dare to wander into the Mysterious Star Circus?