blind_witch poh All this negative energy, around me everyday, coming from people giving up on my family, and on me, without ever knowing which of us is a bad person or a good person. Pain from writing. I have to feel bad just to feel good, certain people they stop communicating and don't do anything but hurt me. I feel as if I am writing memoirs that will one day be frowned upon in a world of ugliness and horror. Some people can just open up their pain and let it flow out like a faucet with no regard for themeselves. It is only after they begin drowning that they wake up. It is a real force, I feel pressure around me, like a blanket. With people looking over my shoulder at me; every moment leading to an inevitable place where hell waits in a naked form posed to lash out. Rails laid into my back and the windows of my view closed, blocking me from my escape. The reason it holds me close to it, pushing and pulling at the same time, squeezing me. It doesn't have enough strength to destroy itself, and it is wishing for me to do it, with a creaking door. Seeding it's disgusting self inside of me, with a look of innocence on it's mask, and fangs with notes rolled inside of them. The world is just a cloth draped over the reality within my soul. Actions, falsified for different reasons, blind witch. 020807 what's it to you? who go blather from