Wed, Oct. 24th, 2007, 12:04 am
... At times, could swear corpus collosum is cracking. Can almost hear the sound. Descending into depths of Lethe. Forgetting. Wasting. And the defecation in corner is piling up. Unhindered impulses. Sin cycles. Severed therein. No plane or common ground. Hell. Nightmare realm sleep swallows weak in death. Noise, pain, punishment, bereft without light. Cold, like prison. No release.