I lay down in my soft bed on a raining night, contemplating. I live a life of secrets, hiding myself from the world, but only seen by the naked eye, if watched carefully. I close my eyes gently, looking at a woman, passionately glaring back at me wanting to exist, desperately seeking attention. I am wondering about my beliefs and thoughts, which always in question, the thoughts to trust myself is always in doubt. Restlessly, trying to sleep, knowing this existence is a masquerade, a mask that haunts me.
Vivianne is a person, she does exist.