This constant battle! This battle of want, and need, and hope, and hopelessness. One way or another I’m left to the fearful quietness that is my mind. Endless waves of what I can be, what I never was, where I will be, and what I simply cannot do. Waves of grace…waves of depression…waves of possibility…waves of regret…waves of…Dreams that overtake this mind prohibit production, enable disability, and murder motivation. I’ve lost my thoughts, I’ve lost my hope, I’ve lost my way. Though I walk through the valley of Shadow of Death, I fear evil because this valley is destruction and the shadow is my mind as I walk shamefully and fearfully toward my death. Ruin, Ruin, I lie in ruins, stripped of clothes and flesh, my bones lay dry and helpless in this pit of gloom. Where are you, O Sheol? Where are you, O Bosom of Abraham? Have I not come to you in disgrace? Have I not entered your foggy gates? Where is my soul? Where is my strength? Have I not stumbled and fallen far beyond what I could endure? As I battle for air I notice both fire and water merging together to rid me of my substance. Burning, drowning, surely I have entered the gates of Fire, the doors of Beelzebub. Now he stands before me, his hands wrapped around my throat. But this isn’t Hell, this is my room and my hands have reached upward to extinguish my fire, my passion, my purpose. I have done this to myself. I have brought myself to ruin. Surely I have walked into desolation. Surely I have stripped myself of my function.

Justin Boothby, November 5, 2015