Wow. It's like I just can't help myself.

The fall is a wonderful time of year. The cold is reminding me of that feeling, that cool, familiar feeling, that drives me mad with want.


I'm going mad. Gone.

The chemicals are fresh, constant, and if there's no drugs, then it's the alcohol. If it isn't the alcohol, then I'm in a pit of doom and despair, locked away by my own horrors.

Words circle, they're thinking seriously of kicking me out. They say "get out", they say things like "LEAVE".

They don't understand. They just don't.

Nothing is going to change, not until something momentous happens.

And it hasn't, yet.