As I make my decent down the mountain, I see the lights of the hellish little town below. This is not my home. I sink into unhappiness as I make my way ever closer. It's just cold and rainy enough to make it miserable. This seems like such a long nightmare. I feel like I will never wake up. I'm holding on to some futile hope that one day I can return home, but with every passing day that hope fades a little more. Perhaps I don't deserve to ever go home again. Maybe this is my lowly fate. I feel that I'm on the brink of madness every day. I cry a little prayer, then off to sleep, to live in the realm of improbable possibilities...
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