Thursday, November 09, 2006


I'm finding few reasons to wake up anymore. Here I am; It's one o'clock in the afternoon, and I've just emerged from a long slumber. The only course of action I want to take is to take tranquilizers, and return to sleep. I spent most of last night and early this morning fighting Legions; I'm still tired. The only thing that seems certain to me is pain. I'm sick of making every moment of every day pain management. Whether it's my ankle, my knees, my heavy heart, or my weary head, I just don't want to fight it anymore. I'm sick; I'm tired; I'm a damn fool for promising not to take measures into my own hands. Before I slept, Prester Bane taunted me. He begged me to go ahead and do it; he kept saying that if I did, that he would own me forever with no competition. What the hell am I supposed to do? I think I could deal with my struggle if I had an ounce of happiness, but that seems just as far away as sanity right now. If I had happiness, I could at least put some joy into my writing, and testify to love, but that path is denied to me. All I have to write, and all I have to live is pain. Who wants to hear more of that?

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