I stepped out front and noticed that people are starting to put up their Halloween decorations. Why couldn't the world just stop long enough for me to catch my breath. Why couldn't it have just paused long enough for me to deal with life as it was, instead of life as an unknown future. I sit here typing away these words and fear that I'm typing away whatever life I had. I'm starting to feel that injury, that strike to my Ego, and my Id is suffering along with the rest of my psyche. I feel the breath of inevitability and destitution on my shoulder. I hear the laughter of a sinister devil shadowing me.

My body hurts from lack of space. I fear to stretch because I might strike him. He takes offense easier than I do. The water that surrounds me, I fear to make waves because he may find me.

All that comes to mind is that ryhme that I heard in a movie once. It sounded cool then, but it sounds aweful now. It's my fear, my torment.

"When I was walking up some stairs, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. I wish, I wish he'd go away".

There is a light at the end of my tunnel, but will it be bright enough when I finally make it out?