2003-10-30 - 9:32 a.m.
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Out damned spot! was shouted, rubbing blood from sleeves and sheets. Instead I scream it wildly at spot of mind - my spotted mind is riled with disfunction, boiling with destruction. I reek of stench of failure and fraud. My heart seems too beaten to beat the right beat, pumping lub dub seems almost a bore. These days seem to trickle right by with no fury, no wrath and no purpose than just simply �be�. I manage to wrangle my thoughts to ideas but they all seem so brittle and seem to fade quickly. My body is dulled and my senses have faded � the sights and the smells and the tastes have been blurred. I�ve been stripped of my love and been fleeced of my comfort. I�m naked to the world, unprotected and shaking. The room around me pulses and I see the walls threaten mayhem. The only constant is the arms of the clock spinning wildly and rapidly without any pause. My words now seem broken � disjointed and lame � my own voice seems sickly and weakened with grief. I can feel the fire in my eyes slowly smoldering under the weight of the torment in my head as the day wears it�s course on me and I stumble through the screaming madness of existence and try my best to survive the day. This is what it�s like without you.
What did you just say? - What's he gonna say next?
