I have to confess that I am becoming more and more schizoid with each passing day. It is becoming more difficult to deal with the darkness within. Being slips into nothingness. I walk . . . I work . . . I eat . . . I rarely sleep. My head hurts. Suicide seems to be the only solution to an unmanagable life. I am not sure what I fear. I've lost all my illusions of heaven and hell. I once heard it said that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. That's not true. I pray to a wall. No one or nothing answers. My voice is simply an echo in the wind. I so much want to be loved and held again. Reality, each day I get one step closer to peace. Its all in how you look at it.