Elysian Fields (The Clauryan)

In my head, outside the reality of the dead mind of a tasted body withing the mind. Why am I realizing this now? How could I overcome this? Could I overcome this? Do I want to overcome this? I'd love to taste the brain of a innocent man than I've just killed with my bare hands. I would drain him from his blood and pour it all over my head within the heart I've just consumed. Overwhelmed to the state of where there is no return. The sane mind will not be able to process the reality I am experiencing. To sustain such weights on your mental state is lethal. Why would anybody want to put themselves through something like this? Why the fuck am I what I am? I even don't know if I want to be this...but do I have a choice? Everything begins with the choice. Where did I make mine? I seem to have lost the track of time over my life, every millisecond is like what had to "jesus" experience times six thousand and forty three times sixty ten billion. I am the man whose mind died every day. Whose body isn't a conduit to this world but to another. What are these worlds I am traveling in? Inside me is a unstable cosmic storm of mentalities. Many versions of me roaming the deserts endlessly in order to find the original soul trapped inside the Pandoras box that has been kept from me for so many ions. The flux of my arms is amaranth. My mind is virulent as a virus digesting the sun, a black hole without any destination. It leads to  a empty place so dark that even the most powerful gods had to abandon because even they could not withstand the energies roaming this forsaken place. Who led me here? Was it I or was it a version of my twisted sick self that trapped me here so he could bloom in the everlasting fields of Elysium? I will not escape this place even if I will have the chance....one could say I am destined to roam this place endlessly and at some sick point become a new god of plague and decay so I could create another world so dark that no entity would step into with a clear mind. I will become something to be something of. I feel like I'm not an organic being any longer. There are cogs in my head, pumps breathing in, breathing out, wires for veins. Indestructible mechanical parts that won't let me fade. But how then can I feel? Something in me is terribly wrong...something changed....in the dark corners of my mind.