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Nine days.
I've been up for nine days.
As I look into the sky, all I can see is a twisted twirling spiral of decayed shapes and distorted figures.
I have to hold back the voices that whisper to me, I close my ears as much as I can but yet the voices only seem to get louder.
Destroy them all, they say.
Listen to us, they say.
Let them all squirm and scream for mercy, they say.
It would all be horrific for one sane of mind, but unfortunately.
I am not sane of mind.
As violent as they things the voice suggest may be, I find peace in them. For as long as they are around, I know I am not alone.
What glorious friends I have.
Ten days.
