Lately I’ve been in turmoil, enveloped in my own crumbling misfortune. I corrupt the very seams that keep me composed with my destructive thoughts. Countless nights I lie in bed staring into the gray that coats my walls. It has become seemingly impossible to sleep. I feel like I’m dancing on the skirts of the universe and one step in the wrong direction could evoke the end of my existence. Fear itself can no longer threaten me. To fear, to love, to laugh; it all spurs from the ability to feel. I cannot anymore feel.