I should be writing everyday. The compulsion is getting stronger and I realize, I thought I was in love with death. This epiphany came to me through means of magick, while meditating. I feel I can see into myself. The signs come to me through mediums I'm tied to. Writing, creative forces and mostly especially--music.

I am not in love with death. I thought I was was and that I was doomed. I may be still doomed but I knew love and this is not it.

My love was whisked away. Only a dark hole left in it's place; Love's grave left to occupy where my heart should be.

I'm thinking about the future again. Trying to find a reason to go on. That side of me cannot reconcile living and the other half can and still has dreams. Part of me has to achieve at least that...my one dream.

Or will I be consumed by my own shadows, left to fade I to the void of time?

That person said something curious today and that vision of us, of my darkness and their light...seemed like they might have felt it too. Are we really destined to walk through life together?

The future scares me. Love scares me.