A million thoughts running through my head, but nothing concrete and definite coming out. Been stuck in a rut, in the mud, and can't figure a way out. I need to write. Badly. And the thoughts aren't able to flow properly. The cross between a hurricane and the aftermath when everything is gone and damaged.

Dreams come crashing down like a helicopter shot down in a war torn country. Head down, in a funk. Downward spiral, falling faster, deeper into the pits of the unknown. The feeling of being pulled even further by quicksand sucking you in like going down a never ending drain pipe leading into the sewage, full of darkness. No hope, no chance of survival of reaching sturdy ground to stand on, a free disaster, death wish. Maybe death could come faster and spare the pain and agony and terrifying hell?