Suffering, you leave me in the dark, damp, dirty room. I'm sad, I'm ill, I'm lonely. Then forever more forgot and not forgiven. For the person that I am, not good enough, never given enough.

I am ill. Yes. But this feeling is temporary. All feelings are. Remember a week ago in vivid detail? Maybe not. Because it's passed. And this too shall pass. And I will have good times again. Be in the thick of it. Thriving. Living the dream. Being the architect of it all.