4:36 p.m. - 2007-09-25
Getting out
I've gotten used to the hemorrige, suffering has become comfort, and I'm beginning to sink into a pool of broken memories; I've got to get out! Wallowing in this lonesome perdition, forgetting the very essence of perception, "What is real?"
Time ends in the worst of times, it seems. Many have died around me; some young and some old, but I still remain, suffering in this flesh. If not for me, then for them; I've got to get out!

I'm still alive, I've still got time-to regain my life. Here I go, to make a stride accross my shadow.