The walls of my mind are crumbling slowly from within and without. I’m here in the middle, peering out between the cracks into an infinite smoky abyss, thick with methamphetamine vapor and temptation. The cosmic horrors beyond these paltry fortifications are mounting daily, and the din of their chaos echoes throughout my heart, heavy with gloom. The horizon is darkening beyond these walls, and that darkness is encroaching rapidly.
Today, I went to visit an old friend and celebrate the baptism of his twin sons. Those two wee babies are so full of potential, and I hope sincerely that their lives are filled with wonder and joy, and that they live without fear. I don’t remember being that way. There were always fearful things lurking in the background of my existence, and I lived in constant abject terror. In many ways, I still do, which is precisely why I disappeared for the last several weeks from contact with anyone apart from my wife and people I could not possibly avoid otherwise. Darkness draws ever near. The walls are more like heaps of rubble, and I hear the uncanny sound of nails raking stone.
Mine is a state of constant watchfulness. I cannot stop myself from envisioning myriad terrible ends that may -or may not – come. My doom is awareness, and the closer I get, the more acutely aware I become. I can only dull the madness of these visions temporarily and at great expense to my mental and physical health with illicit drugs, though the cure may be worse than the illness which necessitates it. These are the ravings of a lunatic, a drug addict, and a desiccated husk that might once have resembled a human being. Is no one left unspoiled by this world? Is there anybody out there?
Towers of Rust 