Why is life so circumstantial? Just when you think you have a grip on reality, some tangible form of normality, something always comes along and wrenches your common ground from under you.

Culpability comes creeping in the night and slices its way into your broken sleep. It tortures you while you toss and turn until sit straight up in bed and scream out to no one in particular to, �just kill me, okay? Just kill me!� So you sit with sweat dripping off your body with face in hands, listening to the voices argue within your head.

Life is so damned surreal sometimes. It�s heavy. It can be light and then, like now, it�s just not right.

I/m tired. I/m so damned very tired. I/m tired of standing guard. I/ve had this watch for too long now, and my body is breaking down. I/m all alone here and I can/t figure this out. I/m a rat in a maze and I can/t figure it out. There/s an end I know. I don/t want the cheese�. I just want to be at ease.

Won/t someone cut me loose? Won/t someone take me down from this wall?

There has never really been a place for me, no, not really. I/ve been okay. Mostly. Sometimes I break down though. Like now. And I/m weak, and I/m tired. And it/s hard to carry on.

Whether I make it or not, well, that/s all in your point of view.

The wicked never sleep and the children will always suffer. Don/t try to understand me, there/s nothing to understand really, it/s just my mind on overload, and like a fuse just before it blows, it glows the brightest.

The weather is hell, glad your not here.

tim