THe visual tear that takes part in my absence from the very thing we call reality. The threads unraveling betwixt the force of mental unwind.

Fuck am I losing it?

I'm locked in this mental spiral, an endless staircase spinning both ways into darkness. The only sounds are those of my own voice as it reprimands me for my surprisingly well worn arrogance.

I'm speaking riddles even to myself now. Hoping that by keeping myself dazed and confused I won't have to open my eyes and remember that I'm not the one in control anymore. That I'm just broken passerby painted upon the concrete of this unconscious prison cell.

I have no idea what is happening in the world outside. No idea as to what HE is doing with the child I had hid so deeply in this maze-like mind. Perhaps this is my long sought solace? Hidden beneath the guise of a self wrought retaliation...

It's only that I am restless, seeping through her slumbering defenses to regain an ounce or two of the control I used to have over a mere fingertip.

She shudders, and I'm frightened, as I hopelessly type this rotten mess of an entry into a dusty laptop.

He watches with a hearty smile as the shadow of who I am struggles so hopelessly against his might. His soiling touch...

I question whether or not I should simply give in. Let this fucker have at it with Elliot and let myself fade away into memory...

Not like there is anything I can really do anymore. My only purpose was nuked the second I became nothing but another enemy to my father.

Maybe it's time I return to sleep. My time may have ended, and I'm just too fucking stubborn to accept it.

My kisses folks, perhaps by some unforeseen debacle you'll be cursed with my madness once more. Until then... I rest, tis better than watching this shit.

Haha fuck that, I'm Anarchy...