this old place

I'm startled to find, upon opening my eyes and looking warily around, that I have somehow stumbled in to a very familiar, very unpleasant thicket. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I know some of the uglier scenery all too well. This tangled state of mind... I don't like it one bit.

I am not trying for poetry - this is simply difficult to explain. Very difficult. Like a word you just cannot bring in to focus, no matter how long you squint at it. Like a story you forget in the midst of telling. Like a melody you can imagine, but can't quite sing. Whatever I say, I hear my voice saying it in a casual, expository sort of way... it's a lie, a gloss, a colorless copy, a 3rd-hand rumor, somehow the authenticity is lost before I even form the words.

I know I've been here before. I recognized it right away when I found myself surfing the web obsessively, reading things I didn't want to know, things that scare me, things that I hate seeing. Why? I found myself falling asleep in a haze of fear, with some semi-conscious sense that I should remain vigilant in sleep against... what? Walking down the street, full of a sense of dread that... something is coming. There is a constant twisting pain I need to get rid of, but how?

It is easier to find your way out of a thicket with your eyes open than with your eyes shut. Here's to the strength to find the way.