My ex-boyfriend used to take the concept of freedom way too literally. He always felt quite free to act dumb.
He came dangerously close to destroying his world by continuously rebuilding it around hers. But in the blindness of devotion and obsession, the blindness of love, he could not see the falling night of his sanity and freedom.
Struggling for a muse did I stumble forth into the gibbering maw of the world. I fell into the Grave clutching the baby-blue journal that freed my soul and the brick that both chained It and mashed my head in.