Back to square one. Hate the fact and dealt daily. Often felt like Sisyphus. Rolling a rock up then downhill it goes. Always have to carry lighter object. Upto my consciousness. Best to let go. It gets bigger or smaller. It made me none the same. Yesterday's version. Felt like eons. Today I am in the prison of my own making. This has happened before. How did I get out? Multiple ways. Creative and dumb. Effective it works. My mind is merging 2 or more languages at the same time. Composing a rhyme in pure English is out of order. In the meantime. I'll write whatever I felt. I miss the Joker life made me.