Beleaguered, beaten,downtrodden, and ridiculed, a lawless dystopian system, who says I need to imbibe all of this misery like an alcoholic who savors that last drop of misery
An act of depression, I just wanted to end this session without that pervasive effect, and failed.


The lesson here was not, is not, in that failure, but the lure of some inner peace, a cease to the wails of the demons who in their persistence infect my mind with graphic insinuations of insect like pestilence crawling over my body until I get their much needed fix.


They say the burn means it's working but I only feel them churning, yearning, scratching the back of my mind screaming more, and like the good little ***** I give.

   if only so i get my fix that sweet neurotic silence is an awful, awesome bliss, that no description could do justice, I sigh and revel there are no words for this.


Again and later forevermore they come and scream and wail and I their dutiful ***** awaken from the floor and reach for the nearest bottle of sweet sweet liqueur.
    
    or in my mind, behind the wall, that deadening silence that kills them all, if only for a little while, before again they whine and moan.


A pile of bodies is all I can envision, enveloped and writhing in some sick contortion, mouths agape and screaming, there is no flood of blood, just pain and denial and as I watch from the corner I taste the bile.
    
    how could i have made this thing, what was its purpose, to safeguard the wall or keep me trapped, I pour more liquid into their mouths but keep my focus rapt, how can I leave if they are here, where to go from this pit of fear.