I'm the one who creates the ghosts who appear to attack me.
The list of people and situations I resent I created myself.
The drama I think I'm being sucked into is my own play.
The playwright descends from the stage, and picks up a prop gun.
He hands it to another player, and the player shoots him.
He then cries out:
'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?'