We are smoldering in the ashes of decent. This is our Kretan maze, the beast lies within.

We've been lied too again, this too must be slain.

We are all pressed for time, the gods will wake soon, and their children will feast on our bones. Gods of a new time, born of the laziness of an old world.

I have pressed the kitchen knife hard enough for blood to rise, a bruising surrounds the cut. A stigmata to give rise to the anger that will save me.

I am not a puppet.

Three dots of fresh blood reveal themselves to me from the palm of my hand, peering in a straight line in the center of the discoloration.

Two days no sleep. Six days no meds.

"The greatest day I ever had was when tomorrow never came."
-K. Cobain

Yes
No
Do nothing