fear and loathing in Spokane Washington

Night , the clock ticks it's way past midnight slowly calculating the elapsed moments between sanity and the vast psycalogical wasteland that is night. The cocktail of rum and vicadin slows the process even more and I become introspective. Picking apart every fiber and characteristic till only flaws remain screeching accusations at me and telling me that it's all over. Fuck that shit it's over when I say it's over and it aint over yet. this is the duldrums the place where I drift for days with out wind feeling like hope was just a bedtime story told to me by long lost people who thought I had potential. I picture myself standing downtown in seattle with a cardboard sign claiming to be a veteran of the iraq war misery and abject suffering written on my face and my tattered cloths. Is this my future a prophetic vision of a fate to come? Or is it just fear takeing me under it's immense wing crushing suffocateing me till I can't find the strength to fight my way out. the devil point's and laughs the defeated foe of God glorying in my defeat. The embers inside burst into flame at the thought. This is not my future! I tell myself "I will not go out like this" a faint glimmer of hope inside is all I need. tomorrow is a new day, a new oppertunity, the first step toward someplace better can happen anytime. I need to sleep this off. tomorrow I'll hope again, tomorrow i'll try to live.