Title?

As an exercise first, I wrote whatever came to me -regardless of sense; non-sense writing, stream-of-well-you-know-what. I was haunted by it; led to anonymous byways of thought, punctured pinholes through constricting structures of reality until it became something else.
Now I bask, breathing slow, on beach sand and wonder. I choose my words too carefully.
I tempted the boundaries of sanity until the walls I taunted talked back.
I led an adventure into nowhere and I'm the only one who showed up to go. So I went. Cliffs of Despair, and all that. Things got forgotten.