Imagine if Lexy was a patchwork of strikingly colourful cloth with the brightest arrays of colours in the universe, everyone would turn to him whenever they needed any help and cut a little bit of cloth, and Lexy would become bit by bit, just a scrap of indistinguishable cloth. Lexy was very artistic and Lexy is not me, but a fairy that I have known. Lexy appeared to be bipolar, but I know that he was just a result of all that he had gone through. Everyone turned to Lexy for help

Because he was the patchwork of the universe, and he was an accumulation of past experiences. Lexy loaned me a bit of his cloth to wipe my tears when I was sad, but Lexy never gave me an any bit of cloth for the longest time. He would teach me and loan me different Colours of his patchwork, which symbolized the different parts of his experience. Each colour encapsulated the meanings of life and how to deal with people, but he never gave it to me because I never understood him and he never really understood me. Being the head of the patchwork world, he had to sew up new pieces of cloth to his bedsheet body, and he grew so big that he thought he could do anything. Yet, these pieces of cloth fell off so easily because Lexy used bad strings. He would employ the secondhand strings of dead silkworms and they could be so deceivingly beautiful, for silkworms were known for the stunning cloth they could create, only when used correctly. Lexy, Mr Patchwork, was the epitome of perfection. Lexy was Mr and Ms Patchwork, for he could be anything and he was anything he wanted to be. He could even be an it. Lexy, with his perfect patchwork and of incredulity, always took his pieces of cloth for granted. Sometimes when people who needed help tried to cut his cloth away, he forgot to use better quality string. There was this type of string named steeling, and it was so strong that no one could spoil any form of patchwork if that string was used. Lexy always forgot to purchase this string because he already had the secondhand silkworms, but the silkworms were so overused. The new little bits of patchworks often fell away because the Ghosts of the silkworms would bite and gnaw on the sewings. The old patchworks were most demanded for, and many people tried to pull them away, but they didn't budge much when aliens attacked because they loved Lexy and the patchwork world when they had first joined his community of cloth to avoid the aliens. You see, cloth can create warmth, and little bits of cloth alone can do nothing, but when sewn together and constructed into a community, these little cloth could do wonders. Sometimes, these cloth that made up Lexy were a good blanket that engulfed me. They covered us up and kept me so warm, but then I ran out of the cloth for no one knows nor dares explore what will happen after I totally get surrounded by the cloth. Lexy used the cloth to cover his deeds, and used the cloth for warmth. Angel then took a pair of scissors and cut bits of the beautiful patchwork and some old pieces and many new pieces fell away. Angel was neutral, and Angel was no angel at all. She just happened to have a positive name.

Patchworks can create warmth, yet patchworks highlight mere imperfection of little bits and cover ups. One day, there was a thunderstorm and it struck a humongous hole in Lexy's body. The ghosts of silkworms further gnawed on him and Lexy's remaining patchworks were half hanging. They wanted to hang on but they were falling, further and further. "Steelings! We need Steelings!" they chanted, but this was just a lie because patchwork cannot speak. How then can patchworks be happy? When Steelings are used, but how does Lexy know?

I wanna create my own book. (:

This is something Lexy has to learn.