Sometimes I can barely breathe. Most times I can barely stand to.

Step XIII
Meaning

Would you say you are here? I just read a book that left me hopelessly lost.

I've got some thoughts that seem to make a dark winter that much blacker. I'm pretty sure I'm coughing up at least one of my lungs. I can't see or breathe or think or sleep or move or do anything. It is just like that. I'm barely substantial. Fluff. White noise. Static. Static and Stasis. It is a nice sounding phrase. It is all about how I'm stuck in the background and torn by indecision. There seems to be action and motion in static, but there really isn't. It is a droning infinity that people only bare to put up with until they can tune in to something worth hearing.

I'm not sure if I couldn't care less or I hate it with every fiber of my being. I don't know if I'm capable of either.

There is a beacon out there. Of this I am absolutely uncertain. It sounds nice. Maybe I'm pleading for you to help me. Maybe I'm just bitching. Maybe I'm lying to you, just to feel in control of the situation. I want to reach, but I'm not sure what to grab.

It is all spinning out of control. Are we getting motion sick or are we enjoying the ride?

I've got a head full of lies and dreams and questions. My head hurts. I wish I could sleep.