Destitute.. Plain. Black. Hollow. A never ending spiral through which I'm falling. Grabbing the bannister, but clutching empty air in my hands. Falling, falling, falling. A rock hard bottom perhaps? I do not know. But what bothers me is that I couldn't care less. A bottomless pit. That's what I crave right now. For now, that is oblivion. A haven. Away from the noises of the world, away from its clutches. A void that refuses to be filled. One that refuses to leave the caverns of my mind. Thoughts, sliding inside my head, deep and dark, slimy like worms. I cringe. Why does it feel like I will never get out from here? Do I really want to? For now this feels dangerously close like home.