The spirit is broken, the body is weak, flailing in the face of self-inflicted agony.
All knowing is unknowed, all belief a sham.
Faced with self, the biggest demon of them all, I cannot beat the odds.
To dig deep within, is to climb Everest… to win an Ironman.
The lust of sensous satisfaction is overpowering, like a drug it wills you into the lowest common denominator of existence.
Sleep offers the only chance of escape.
The chance to dream, again.
To awaken is to be compressed into the gas chamber of reality.
Fumes of integrity suffocating. Killing. Dying.
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