thoughts of a madman

diving into a deeper sense of consciousness i transend spoken word and sharpen my pencil. With the pencil as my sword and the paper my enemy i launch myself at the target and attack both violently and cautiously, hoping to appear towards the end of this war in my own mind victorious and unharmed. When i have done something stupid and really got worked up about it i find it extremely difficult to talk, yet i find writing to be the most simple of tasks. I have this habit of ruining the most important of things in my life without even trying, and while i do this i spiral into a bottomless pit of macabre thoughts and depression.