The shadows crawl within me, blocking out the light of hope. With claws and fangs hidden beneath pale skin I walk the land hidden by a mask of flesh and plastic smile.
Yet I know the truth of my condition, even if those around me do not; and those who do, run scared once they understand the full reality of my condition.
I am insane.
There is no other logical explanation that I can find. I am a crazed lunatic with just enough sense to realize my sickness, but not enough will to do anything about it. The shadows have consumed me. My consumption of the past a hindrance to creating a stable mind, and I am lost unto myself.
I regret many things.
Yet try as I might, I have not the strength today to deal with the delusions crawling through my psyche. I grasp at ghosts in an attempt to find some sort of stability, yet I fail. I try to convince myself that I can do this alone, yet more often than not I fail in the attempt; thus finding myself once again reaching for somebody to hold me up.
I have spent a great deal of time gazing upon the water, attempting to find patterns within the chaos. There are times I believe I see them, but the patterns do not hold true and I am once again stuck at square one.
To say that there are patterns would not be right, however, there is repetition in the waves, just not in the same place nor from the same directions. In such, although it seems like a pattern, it is not.
Much like my life, it is nothing but chaos; just another wave in an ocean of causality.
