"my eyes burn, rebelling against the fact that they know they wont close for yet another night. my mind is tired and almost dead. it kicks out detailed scenarios involving that sweetheart to comfort me in some way but it just leaves me searching for the real thing. a taste i have to find and have on my lips to lick away. a taste that’s backed with security of having something solid within my grasp. a taste only present when whats happening is supposed to happen and not some veiled tragedy that comes with a guarentee that you’ll be left hanging on a lower level than where you started. my heart starts looking for a drug, feeling around for whatever adrenaline it could suck up to get flowing. need a rush; without the excitement and promise of uncertainty im not sure i have any motive. the pulse relays and reflects the failure and slows down gradually. each breath becomes long and overdrawn. inhale. keep inhaling. dont stop. 5 seconds. 5 minutes. today. tomorrow. a week. next month. next year. there could be a shortage of air. and i’d be left with nothing for taking only what i needed. inhale, take it all and save myself the trouble of battling memories for the oxygen i need - they’re as selfish as i am in times of panic. its a permanent state of mind, always fearing irrational fears but never taking into calculation the immediate danger. it rests on my shoulder like a conscience. whispering doubts to poison the things i know are real and urging my feet to take me straight into traffic. and death do us part but at least it would be satisfied."
-Neros Decay