I’m falling continuously into a tight and swollen abyss. I don’t what lies two feet in front of me and can barely recall the two steps I just took. Compacted memories that seem timeless but always grab me in the same way they had done previously. In retrospect, each one of these seemingly random flashbacks I replay over and over in my head is given more of an impact value than they actually possessed at the tyme of actual occurrence. My mind is blown away by this confusion that overwhelms me, and then suddenly vanishes and it all clears up for the moment. I obsess and obsess over what I’m seeing and feeling, it drives me crazy. I have no doubt that this confusion is driven by the anxiety that constantly eats away at my being. For a while now I almost work with this force in that a part of me is welcoming the feeling? I mean it is painful and doesn’t by any mean induce any form of happiness. But why does pain and sadness automatically get no value to all of us. Wouldn’t feeling numb and comatose be the concept that would be given the value of zero? For me the worst thing I can feel is nothing at all, that to me is more doom like that any panic attack that could take place within the mind. Still we will close our eyes to all that terror that floats adjacent to us all over and over knowing in the morning it will be waiting just beyond our dreams. Waiting to enclose back in blinding us and stealing our sanity, slipping in between each stitch of reality we experience. I suppose this is just a really extreme point in my life and will eventually come to a close at some point. I’m really not too sure really what to expect from anything that has any relevance to tyme. While writing this I keep reading it over as I progress and it probably will come off as bitching about something that I continuously overly express. I guess I don’t care so much for what anyone will take it as, I’m really not even sure why I’m sitting here writing this. It does clear my mind up and relax me so that seems to be enough to drive me.