January 24, 2012

Stress has turned into demons. They’re ugly little fucking demons. I can feel them forcing themselves into each and every muscle, pulling tighter and tighter so I can’t move. They weigh heavy on my shoulders and become bigger and heavier, pushing down on me until my chest caves in and I can barely breathe. They fall unto my eyelids so I can’t see. I can’t dream because they’ve taken hold of my mind, pounding themselves deeper and deeper into my subconscious  If you could see inside me, it’s all black. I’m conquered, I’m destroyed. I try to fight back, harder and harder, but for each victory there are ten more challenges. All the warriors in the world can’t help me. Demons, go away.