November 28, 2011
Day by day; night by night.
My questions sporadically multiply. I think.
I analyze.
I fight my inhibition.
I fail.
I collapse onto a surface of confusion.
Where am I? What am I doing? Where is my destination?
Do I have one, or am I just here? Where is here?
What is this barricading, repetitive battle that I can not seem to subjugate?
I won't give up.
I provoke my tormentor.
Give me your best shot! I yell into the emptiness.
I then wait.
My patience gets the worst of me and the absolute silence becomes arduous.
I said...give me your best shot!
A striking pain domes over my body. I become trapped.
I am the prisoner.

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