I go now, alone, into the dark. Try to follow me, and I'll go farther. Try to find me, and I'll disappear like the morning mist. Beyond mountains lost on the horizon, beyond sight of man or beast, beyond thoughts of the rational mind I'll wander. Ride on in a pitiful journey I shall, fueled by frustration I don't want anybody else to see. Nobody can see. No one will be present at the grand failure that will mark the end of my life, not even me. This is why I go alone, broken and bitter. My burden. My duty. My brain slowly drips from my ears. The desert wiped the tears away, and they no longer come as they would. It's better this way. Dry up well enough, and I'll just crack and fall apart without making a mess of things. I'll fall with nobody around to hear it, and won't make a peep.
 
In a self-perpetuating cycle, a vicious and eternal ritual, I repeat the pattern. Frustration enters, uninterrupted, and lies inside, acidic. It never leaves, until more comes, and more, and more, until I can't keep the lid on, and the stink escapes, and it bubbles up too much, and the boiling acid spills, and spits out senseless anger, and then comes more, until it's over, and the relief comes shallow and strained and stained with regret, and disappointment, and shame most of all. Where's the enlightened control I sought, blind idealist that I am? Where's my discipline? Gone, dissipated like a wishful dream of brightly colored, sweet days gone by. A bitter taste stays in my mouth, and I carry on. The burden is greater now, and casting away the goal and forgetting hope gets easier still.
 
The solution should be simple. For a normal person it would be, certainly. Once again I'll curse myself for being such a nuisance to myself. Once again I'll add to the frustration, a blind and deaf servant to my self destruction. Reaching out for a hand should be easy, should be natural, it shouldn't hurt -
And yet it does. Add to frustration, and anger, and grief, and bitterness. Lash out, and then lash at yourself, and then carry on a while, until it bursts again, until it destroys you, just like you so obviously want it to, stupid, broken man. God guide your hands and your legs, because your sight is long gone. Try to find a way out of this, unless you've given up completely, unless you're ready to give up and go alone, into the dark, for the last time.