A pulsating mess of anythning silently floats above. It is everything and yet nothing. The outer layers littered with corpses and debris while the invisible core- an empty darkness, an endless nothingness. I see it, but no words can clearly describe it, for it changes- slowly, yet drastically. It isn't clear whether it even exists. It may just be the hallucinations of a mind on the verge of death, the visual representation of a shallow existence hidden by material things.

My very existence twists and tumbles. Unstable, vain, flat, dying. Alcohol races throughout my veins, thick smoke of cigarettes cloud my vision. The rooms change violently- old rustic kitchens, fogged up clubs, restaurants, fields, alleyways, forests, dark corners of the city. Faces twirl, appear and disappear- some remain for a fraction of a second before turning back into mist.

- - -

My work- gone. My mind desecrated, destroyed, obliterated. Why? WHY?

A question without an anwser. I cannot blame anyone. Even if I could, what would I reach? Conflict and hatred, perversion of the mind.

I will continue to write, nothing will hold me back. My mind will flow free. Errors are a part of the chaotic universe we are all part of. Chaos, instability, it is all around us, it is us, we are an unstable jumble of matter that has condensed into human form for our short lives.

I will carry on. I will...

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