The deeper I get into the mire of my mind and soul the colder it gets. I can feel myself shaking. This low the ceiling drips water from the soil above it. Sometimes I'll sit in this room for hours staring at the roof. I know that it could collapse any time. I wonder what would happen if it did. What if the roof fell and it all went black. To go all the way is something that is both frightening and releasing. Release from the pettiness of this crumbling world, from the pain delt by humanity, and from the pointlessness of this prelude to my descent. However, I fear the future and the end. I do not know why, for I can think of no reason why I would. I doubt it is fear of the devil or hell. I can't explain it...