I don’t have anything clever to say.  I just feel things.  I want to feel that terrible, wonderful disorientation that comes from a well thrown clenched fist.  I want a good reason to destroy.

Today would be a good day to get in my way.  But if you hit that switch, pray.

I know what awaits me on the ‘morrow.

And that pain will test me again.  My chest will pulse, and flutter, and I will sit and wonder,

What will they say, if it’s too much, and I pass away?

I wish I would stop doing this to myself.

I know that this is going to be hell.