Yes, I am in hell, but this is the month to be here, even if only for a quick visit. Its just been one of those weeks where I feel as if I am again 12 and in the white room with the clinical psychologists on the other side of the one-way window. Watching me pick up things, different shapes. Watching me draw, deciding their own conclusions as I pick up a black pencil and write, first with my left hand and then with my useless one. Bastards all. Close eyes, open. Repeat.
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They say that, "Hell ain't no bad place to be." But I'm not convinced.
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