Grace hides behind facades of non-existent people and third person narratives (or really, anything that does not mention "I"). She's currently in the midst of a somewhat existential crisis and on her way to find her identity. During her wanderings inside the submerged cognitive labyrinth, Grace carries a string that either leads her to a spring of light, or rolls her back into the hands of reality. Unwilling to be detached from this mystifying site, the blade of satire protects her from considerable damage.
Let's pray for her welfare in the dark ruins. Or as some would prefer, let's afflict her with headaches and impede her progress with unexplainable mathematical logic. Anyone who would like to make a kind donation, you are welcome to offer soy sauce and pre-made soy sauce scrambled eggs (NO DAIRY) at her suppositional GoFundMe site.