10:49 p.m. - January 31, 2012
The Door
Here I am again, ready to open that door.
I've often ran from it, after putting my hand on the handle. It's hot, it burns.
This time I'm not afraid, I'm determined to open that door...

I'm estranged, I'm torn, I'm completely wasted. Meticulously cut up in pieces, separated from myself. Voices talking out of turn. When I shut my eyes, I make sense out of the jumble. A piece of hair, stuck on the crack of my nail, crimson blotches staining my skin; where is the resilience now? The only thing that silences the voices are your screams. What will keep me together, now that you've ran out? Nothing is ever enough, to relinquish this agony in my head. I'm trying to open that door, again.

Behind the portal, 72 demons await for me. Some give me all that want, others tell me things I never would know by other devices. They are a part of me, as they are a part of Hell. They are the worst parts of me. They are the voices screaming, they are all parts of me, fighting to overthrow the whole. I'm opening that door, I'm no longer cutting myself in vain, no longer breathing pain; no, I'm Ruben-David and OMEGA the same.