I felt it necessary to record my thoughts, lest madness take me before I have the chance. There is a small measure of hope I have found which, as the dawn breaks vividly through my window, I take it upon myself to embrace. Little left is there of that strength which once carried me. I am no longer a bearer of a recent agony, nor a long-time sufferer of events both traumatic and distant. My symptoms are not the embodiment of pain. Rather, that which I bear and suffer is a complete abandonment of faith in humanity and desire to continue in any measure toward what few goals I have left. And yet, gained from a night of darkness and uncertainty is that small measure of hope. My own reasons are not enough by which I can be compelled to move forward; it is only through the knowledge that I serve as a not insignificant piece of a grander puzzle that I may recover just enough energy to continue, to trudge my feet grudgingly onward, if only for another few steps.

Perhaps the last of which will come soon. But it will not be this night.