I suppose my recognition of such early set delirium may be my only probable shred of sanity I have to show.

I'm present here, inside my head.

Growing scarce, I see the faces I know and the commitments I've made. Places, current news, dates and basic knowledge..

It seem they're terrorized now too.

They're darting out of my ears, slipping down my skin and falling into the void.

Gone beside anguish.

That's both worrisome and comforting but from here on I can only encourage them.

It was repressing the past that cost me the order of the future.

I see that the sensible mind would know this mania is never marvelous.

So I guess that makes me unsensible.

Which makes sense.

See, there's no space for grief when the tradgadies quake both me and my unsteady world.

And it isn't such help after all, when there's a strain on reality and a wonder in insanity.

And it's not really that absurd because I can't find the whimsy in this presumed salvation.

So what's to lose if I entirely fall into oblivion?

What's more whimsical than senselessness?