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October 8, 2011
I don't trust myself.

I've been down this hole too many times. Covered in black-sin oil and steep as the walls of hell, this is a place even angels can't escape. No, I can't go down there. Not this time. There's too much at stake.

So I clutch the threads thrown over the edge by the people who love me and keep my face tilted towards the sun. I will try and climb my way out. For you. For us. For myself.

But I can feel my grip weakening, and if something is not done soon, I will fall.