The Bathyscaphe

I threw every shattered thought onto the page. They'd been piling up there for a couple hundred years. I squeezed every last drop of moisture out through my eyes, and after a shower, wrapped myself in a blanket. There's a wish to be rid of fear — or rather, to keep it from hiding in the closet. You are your own executioner, axe, and chopping block. Like Jacques Cousteau, climb down into your own bathyscaphe. Dive to the bottom of the depths of consciousness in it, and carefully examine everything around you. Pay attention to the dark caves. And remember: you are your own best friend. Yes, it can get vile, bitter, frightening down there. A thousand words couldn't capture all of it. But the feeling that it isn't for nothing leads to the thought that you'll come out clean and new. Staying in the dark is always more comfortable: there are more people there, and it doesn't hurt the eyes. Ugh, I'm sick of this damned darkness, to hell with it! But being a measure of things, it lights us up from within.