CHAPTER 5
Why is it when I start to fall asleep the night version of my persona rings loudest? Thoughts of accomplishments and plans unattainable seem second nature during this transistianal phase between night and day.
The morning version of myself hates the night time echo heard loud and clear. Reality appears to be birdaled during those fleeting moments before unconsciousness takes hold. The whore of my morning is hated upon its discovery. What it has to offer is only the repeating slogan of self hate. "Worthless,useless burden on society".
The wheels of my delusion gain perspective and realize once again i am my own worst critic. Judging myself for being human. Holding my self worth in mirror of nonreflection, weirdly the line of sight is illuminated. My father told me, " everything you touch turns to shit". "Everything you do fails..."
He died last year. Fifth heart attack took him while he knapped.