Mai entry:
Euringer smirked at himself in the mirror.
'I AM the god of rock' he thought, smugly, turning on his heel to greet his imagined audience.
He bowed, to thin air, and, as usual, smacked his face into the ground.
Groaning, he got up, spitting out loose teeth as he went.
"Oh well," he smiled, "They still love me"
He sauntered towards the phantom crowd.
OUCH... he yelled.
In his eagerness to get to what he imagined was his audience, he walked into a wall.
The doctors report:
Patient: James Euringer
Diagnosis: Subject to grandiose illusions.
Recommendation: Conselling, bed-rest. Preferrably sedated.
Euringer groaned, rolling out of the bed the doctor had placed him in, and landed on a tack.
Again.
Euringer. Abused Pixels.