Is it just me or does the passage of time seem funny?
One day you can be mad at the world, mad enough to want to kill, but sane enough to not commit it.

The next, your 18th birthday, your anger scurries away and now enters the procession of laughter and joy.

You are having a great time, you forget about the pain.

Who knows how many more moments pass... you are on a tightrope and the perpetual darkness beneath you is screaming your name.

Deep down inside, in the recesses of your soul, you do not want to acknowledge the war, for it costs to much to do so. You are torn from your introspection, you are robbed of your ability to think, and you are faced with the smoldering heat of the moment of decision.

This decision is too great for one to comprehend, for if one were to comprehend, they would surely go mad.