Room 132

I've had my mind made up for a while now. And no, that's no admittal of curse but rather a premonition of offerings. You see, quite often conclusions are drawn about my character that surprise even me; ideas that I am mad, that I am some kind of lunatic. It's not far off base, I'll admit, but I prefer to think of myself as just deviously eccentric.
          Alas, it is my humble dwelling that decides to amuse me so. After all, if these walls could talk I'm sure you'd be most captivated by what they have to say. I find myself caught in that very trap. It's inexcusable, I know, to succumb to such folley and weakness; but alas, I find it is myself that is letting these walls down, not the other way around.
          Trapped... It is a rather apt word for the situation. I am a prisoner here through no device but my own. No doors are locked except those that bind me to my slow, torturous descent from glory and into this looming, hellish reality. I was once like a King! I studied under Shakespear himself; Rimbauld, Sappho, Poe! Each impressing upon me their own sick and twisted delusions. There is no love, no light so pure! And the abhored feelings of regret, loss, heartache; these are the true folley! What I see, what I feel, totally captivating my very essence, my very core, and shall have its mark left on all!
          For I shall have myself heard and those whose hearts can not be cleansed by truth, whose hearts are too tainted by the infectuous and odoriferous love and kindness shall be exterminated; they are the true evil, the true masterminds behind the destruction of humanity! I am a visionary! A seer, a prophet; I will cleanse this race of its misgivings! I shall free my people! I shall end all suffering!
          But while I am still bound by my own dooming thoughts, trapped as I am, humanity shall limp on. For now, I must just sit patiently and wait. And listen. And bide...
          For now, these walls are my comfort...