I was reading over some old writings of mine and found one that I think represents the beginning of all dark days of my life, the ones which I just narrowly escaped. I find this writing very interesting because it sums up what was about to happen before it ever happened. And now viewing it from beyond the hurt and destruction I see that I subconsciously knew the demise that was about to unfold like scary foreshadowing music in a horror movie.

Rake Hell 11/19/02

Ensanguined heartache dilutes daybreak-splashed hope and begins the dissolution of potential. Imprisonment drudgery and toil: mental anguish at flushed possibilities. Bile and regret coat the cigarette smoke choking my lungs. In my journal, my writing begins '...oh blackest hole, my home of homes...'; wasted words to while away the drunken stint of failure. Lecherous liquor and blackened breathing tissues terrorize my feeble, noncommittal attempts to break this boredom's syrupy lull. Heavy hooded future rescinds behind opaque filters of cataractous ennui. Balancing on slothful inertia, my demise seeps deeply into unintentional companionship and commonality which inflicts accidental damage. Dark wave of ineffectualness blankets all intentions of good. Farewell inspiration, goodbye creativity, au revoir desperate bright hope--all saviors and friends. The end begins...