I have no faith, and at times like these, I turn inward. And I hear certain voices. I know they are malicious, I know they want my being. But their words are so sickening; my mind is so decrepit, how can I possibly stay away?

The more I age, the more I realize my thoughts--my mind—don’t belong to me. They are unstable and subject to something else. I am a visitor in this world and should accept my role, as the visitor, voices tell me.

Yet I cry inside, as my heart beats mournfully. Some things have settled upon it, and I can’t discern what those are. There is a bitterness that comes with blindness, because all I want to know, all I want to understand, is ‘how’? How could I have let things, malevolent, take governance of my life?