Unknown.

It is compelling. I am writing this, unbeknown to you. I am in my position, revelling, writing this and having a gay old time. Yet you can read this, and not know. Not have a clue. Nor do I know where you are as you read this. How compelling. My mum used to say she had eyes in the back of her head. But really, I dont think she does. If so, is she watching me? Does she read this, knowing exactly how it came to being? Boring. The power of the unknown is the best. Unknown? Translation: fear.