maybe it's time for stories, maybe a short tale. they say the truth is stranger than fiction, but then they never lived in my skin because they would say, missions truth is just stranger than strange. you speculate, build a profile, i mean the persona is a vast labyrinth, there are many rooms in the mansion but the one i never write about is the one that i should, part of my history, a defining moment perhaps, certainly not an everyday experience and it's telling will require great fortitude and some considerable skill, for myself as well as you. but reader every word is true, or is it all a fiction? 
allow me some grace as i begin a serialised account of the darkest chapter of my strange life, and you may wish to avert your gaze should you suffer from depression or melancholia or a nervous disposition.