Maybe, just maybe, too pusillanimous to deal with it, hiding in the cubbyhole the whole day, never leaving from the tenebrous atmosphere of the inside. The wickedness of the other, to much to accept. Imagine, the caricature of the figure, just standing , as i dwindle away. I hear the susurrus of my heartbeat, maybe it's aberrant. These phase of the life, common, it's a reoccurring theme in my mind i guess. The vanity of this selfish life, too much pretence.Once again, i have to say, i abhor cuelity, cruelity against self. I am a hypocrite.