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Vague and objectless anxiety in the present, and in the future a continual sacrifice that leads to nothing... That is all that lays before me. Is it despair? Then it must be divine.  I feel not the hope and optimism that comes with the passage of time. My life is subject to entropy, decay and eventually death. I seek hope in the thought that everyone's life is the same as mine. I'm I wrong? Possibly. I envy the average, normal individual, unquestioning in their faith, driven purely by instinct with a worldview that is governed by a duality of black and white. They have no concern about the most important and life altering shades of grey. I have a fucked up brain, obsessed by a need to make sense of every stimuli I experience examining, analyzing and contrasting. The burning desire and compulsion to fit everything in a jigsaw which is, sometimes me thinks, a futile attempt to make sense of life. The result... A twisted personality that no one gets and a neurotic brain that is on the verge of psychosis. I look at myself and there are so many things I hate in me. So many things are so hard to believe. I wish somebody would come to my rescue. Till then, I'll make the best of this gaol, with its wet dripping ceiling and malnutritioned rats.