What a hell of a life we're living in this make-believe world, where the puzzle pieces never fit together and the edges are fringed. How did we get here, to this infinite twilight? We've been here so long I've lost track of time, as if it mattered in a place always between light and dark. I can't remember life before this, before the crashing and the shattered words that fall like piercing rain in the solid dark of night. Before the constant numbing hum that is expectant, that makes us wait anxiously for the storm, what is there? We'll never know, but I still wonder. Can there be anything else than this? Can there be more to this twilight nightmare of mazes that all lead to hell? Is there anywhere beyond the threateing, groping black shadow where we can escape to? Who can say? I feel the tightening of the air and the shadow of the storm creep into me and it grips my soul. No, there is nothing else. I know because the darkness tells me this, and the storm consumes me.