Two-thirty in the morning, and...damn... I'm feeling dry

It has been for the past several days that I have been a very volatile individual. Not only spiritually, but emotionally and intellectually. I've been having reoccurring flashbacks of things or feelings that I nearly had forgotten about. Maybe I tried once before I thought them buried and its only now that they've reoccurred to taunt me.

Inside I feel my head is crawling over with ants. Brazilian ants, the type that are about three inches long and that'll pick your bones dry if given the opportunity. There have been times that I have honestly believed without a doubt that I would go partly insane someday. Its not from one single thing but accumulation that pivots on some minute apex of my psyche. The great battle-ground of fitful emotion and my logic beckoning to me. "Suck in your gut soldier, and swallow your tongue. There's no room for anything but resignation in the army." Resigned to exist, resigned to continue. I don't want to resign myself to anything, but neither do I want to build naive expectancy.

I have not been one for giving up though and most that know me will tell you that I stubbornly bull my way through anything if I decide to do so. Its either all or nothing, I refuse to ever give anything I do up to mediocrity. To me thats worse then never doing it at all. But what if one doesn't know what to do at all? Can he ever then put his effort towards anything?

Forgive me, I do not mean to whine or even rave about anything. Its two-thirty in the morning and damn I'm feeling dry today.