Suddenly: Text!

I felt the urge to write something, but my mind kept jumping around trying to avoid moving in one straight line. Lost in a labyrinth of emotions and impulses I tried to focus. Then I realized something... This place looks like crap! But what exactly was this place? What dark pit of hell had I been cast into, and why? Who had done it, and what was their reason for it? Had my occasional jabs with insanity finally taken hold of me? Had I gone over the edge, or had I maybe become one myself? Too many question and too few answers. Things were getting out of hand, and that was only in my mind. Imagine what the rest of the world must look like by now. My straw hat had turned into something smaller and white. I had to actually feel to be sure that was the case. The sensation that passed trough me when I saw the hat I had on my hat laying in my hall was strange and exciting indeed, but also confusing and terrifying. Had I actually removed it myself? I could not recall. But I knew one thing: I had to get out of here. Now. (This was an attempt at a tribute to Hunter S. Thompson, in case you got confused.)

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