CHAPTER 1
Everynight when I go to bed I find myself laying there for hours trying to fall asleep. Finally, exhausted from the dialogue of self-hate I sucum to unconsciousness.
Those moments before I drift off into a land of
blisful fortitude are only exemplified by the overwhelming hatred experienced upon the arrival of morning.
Awakened I quickly start to chant, "I hate you, you're worthless. Everything you do fails, everything you touch turns to shit", "I wish you were dead!" I feel empty inside like a hollow understanding of experience.
Something seems to be missing from my resolve. Like a stranger snatched a pebble from my hand life seems to have betrayed me. Is it easier to destroy than create? My brain pulsates with dissolution. "Idiot.....idiot....I repeat it over and over again. Directed soley at me?
Sometimes I question how many forms of ill repute exist in one man? Other times I look in the mirror and the reflection is clear.
