or “The best idea I ever had!”
When the madness comes, a cloaked and daggered thief in the night, step by stealthy step it steals away my mind.
It is like a Pathfinding soldier, worming along my synapses, laying traps and diversions and picking the locks of the deepest cells of my being, opening them up for attack. In total camouflage, unknown to me, this thief goes to work on a deadly plan of shock and awe; and as that plan unfolds I become seduced, fooled, brainwashed. It might take days, or years, but it will always win, has always won, and the worst casualties are those who love me most.
To the uninitiated, when the madness comes, I am like a wildfire. They see a burning energy sprung from nowhere, and they draw to me in fascinated fear and awe. I infect them, and they follow, fuelling a fire that rarely burns itself out. It will burn everything and everyone it can, friend or foe, for we are helpless against this drug. Even with every room of my mind ransacked, every door and window smashed, I do not want to stop. I cannot, will not stop, because the madness has become me, and I am become mad.
When the madness comes, it always starts in the same way, as a gift, one I cannot ignore. That gift is always the same, yet paradoxically always new: the gift is a new idea, and every single time it is the best idea I ever had.