I begin writing, putting pieces together, gnawing off rough edges and massaging life into words.
But then the assignment is done and I suddenly find the door won't shut and the whirlwind comes closer.
I am walking the boundary of madness. Throwing myself off the edge, searching for the bottom... risking getting lost in the silent depth.
Then dragging myself in, giving meaning to the broken pieces I have pulled back.
But the journey back... sometimes I wonder if it is worth it...
Yet, without the return journey... I may as well not exist at all, malfunctioning.. Insane.