"Not one day goes by without me staring expressionless at the face looking through the mirror; an echo of haunted dreams, as a single thought courses its curse, 'what have you done?'
The crawling litany of jabbing accusations, lost hopes, poisoned emotions, make way for the shrill piercing credits of some bad on-screen flop. The sole items in the ever present catalogue are simply lines of bizarre choices, pleasured, knotted, and filleted aeon's ago. Never fading forever carping, 'what have you done?'
Fat-bottomed top-heavy ships moving through a force-five hurricane would fare better - with no-one at the wheel. In this space? Navigation is simple, instinct driven, rarely examined for fear of meeting the harsh realities of self. That ravenous entity just outside of waking vision, biding, waiting, for another moment of lapsed weakness. A right moment to occupy, and wreck afresh its primal need of chaos.
Sluicing splashes of icy water randomly play within the mornings ritual, arcing freshly unturned memories - unwelcome visitors - into the spotlight of now..."