Reversal. Stay with it until the end.

Now, caught in the middle of it, I can attempt to describe the extent that this darkness haunts me. It is a mixed metaphor, both dark and of fire. Perhaps an inferno in the darkness describes it best. The flames start small. Mundane thoughts bend towards the morose, then break into despair. Everything shifts to the negative, and I feel both anger and pain from how utterly alone I am. This isolation, this goddamn isolation. At once my voice can reach all corners of the world and echo off the walls of an empty room. I am hopeless with knowledge that I will die as I have lived: alone, always alone. You may say otherwise, that I there are people who care. I know this as truth. But it’s a distant truth, one kept at arms length, so that I can shield others from this infectious pain. The protective act is a farce, of course. I hurt others with the words I write; they are helpless as they watch a man describe his own descent into hell. If they remain however, they see the same man ascend from darkness, to a world that is not so  bleak. This is what is so maddening: the extremes. The conflagration has run its course; the dark veil is lifted. To say that everything is fine would be a lie, but I can ready myself for the next time. Always a next time. This is my life, and I will endure.