no more faustian bargains

It's been almost twenty years, but here I am. I have some things to work out. I don’t know why I write here, truly it doesn’t feel wise, but I know it helps to keep me honest. 

I am still captured by the abyss, like the me that was. The me that I robbed: picking my own pocket as I looked into my own eyes as to say everything is fine buddy, this won't hurt a bit. 

There is a window, a dirty pane in my subconscious, where I transmit what I see from the abyss using morse code. The translations are crude but this is my attempt to capture anything meaningful, or of consequence to me as an integrated individual.

No more faustian bargains. My words here are a catharsis in part; but also, largely, a sincere apology to the universe for my uncanny ability to give life to a series of grandiose disasters. The cathedrals built by hand, a new one for everything I have loved.

Anyway. I will carve out the pieces from my memory. I will be honest.. And perhaps the truth will lay a new foundation. And a new cathedral will rise from all the things that lie broken and useless at my feet. 

My god. Dear, silent god. I am sorry.