You like my voice, eh? And my name is intriguing to you? Ah, we might well enjoy some lovely times together in that case. I invite you to my world which is but a place, solemn as a cemetery, for you to dream lovely, disconcerting things.

But you there! You do not like the sound of my name? Or perhaps my voice leaves you with a horrible taste in the mouth? Or the arrangement of these words or images is not what you are presently attuned to? Ah well, that is sincerely too bad. There is not much one may do about one’s taste, after all! These are things that happen when people interact with one another. These words and images ask nothing of you. You either find something in them worth continuing interactions with or you do not! Perhaps you will try again when you are in a different mood and more inclined to allow yourself to be pulled along by the dream that these thoughts and pictures vaguely point toward or when you are in need of a respite from the brute certainty of the world and people and so many unaccommodating texts.

Or one day, perhaps, you will find yourself enjoying a particular book, singing with the voice that the words are the impetus for, and you will never even know that those words before you, every single one of them, were conjured into that very order in the text by the person whose name you have presently decided that you do not like. You will not know this because I will have chosen a new name that you are unfamiliar with and against which you will not have such a negative attitude. Indeed, from this day forward you will have to live with the unease of knowing not whether the seemingly harmless book you are reading with the superficial façade of a name attached to it has in fact been penned by the same poisoned hands that attach to the poisoned name you so dislike. A trick, a deceit? But not for the sake of trickery or deceit nor for my satisfaction at coming out the victor for neither you nor I could ever possibly be aware of this eventuality. The mere possibility of its eventuality and, more importantly, your knowledge of its possibility is, however, enough to keep these poisoned hands working long into the dark morning.

If I have noticed you just now shifting uncomfortably your position, then I need not mention that we have come to an understanding, you and I: you dislike me—but now you are mine.