S/he

Ryan has an imaginary friend. Or imaginary enemy rather. She (or he) wraps his (or her) arms around him and whispers slimy words in his ear, making him do things he doesn't really want to.

Standalone.

Do not ask which creature screams in the night,
Do not question who waits for you in the shadow.
It is my cry that wakes you in the night,
And my body that crouches in the shadow.
I am Tzeench and you are the puppet
That dances to my tune.
—Karanzantor the Vile, The Traitor of Xian

Ryan doesn't want to bang his wrists on the corner of the table. Ryan doesn't want to pass out from lack of food. Ryan doesn't want to take a knife from the kitchen drawer and stab it through Brendon's heart.

Mad as a hatter, you're thin as a dime.

Recommended listening: "Pretty Buildings" by People in Planes.

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