What is reality? How can I tell the difference between fact and fiction? These strange happenings that have come to be known as my life… are they real? Or is this merely a dream? Some sick, twisted, creation of my subconscious? Am I even living? Possibly I’m a creation of some loon’s imagination. Maybe I am that loon. Locked in a cell somewhere, eternally hallucinating. Perchance I am nothing more than an idea. Perhaps I’m lying in a bed somewhere dreaming away, still waiting to be woken.