Blood-dripping

Whatever happened in my life before, is nothing comparing to what is taking place now. And whatever is still waiting for me in my foggy future, veiled, unpredictable, but hardly as drastic and squeezing - I can just desperately hope that it won't repeat the present. I don't know how, but I survived. I still have to survive, instead of living - for a very narrow circle of people who still care. It doesn't break me, though, - but it feels like it's a kind of sadistic game: it doesn't break my back, but it definitely enjoys twisting my fingers, cutting my body and pulling me to the point of insanity.

This period in my life is a nightmare I want to wake up from.