| I lie in bed with my bed with my girl pressed up against me. If someone were to look at me it would appear as if everything were right as rain. But on the inside I can feel something, something growing from within. I feel as if I should get up and go for a walk maybe that would help. It is cold outside and yet I know I will not feel it. I will feel nothing except this thing that is growing. This thing brings on thoughts that are in themselves evil. It shows vivid images of death and destruction, images you would see in a horror film. I see the flesh, the steel, and the blood. Possibly the worst thing it shows me is myself. What I really look like who I really am. It eats away at all the lies that I have put around it and myself show me for who I am. This thing is depression and it is something I can not escape. It is a terrible virus that I have in which there is no cure� |