I am trapped, my dear reader. I am caught by words. The more I try to free myself, the more I realize how firmly grasping those words are—if they ever relinquished their hold it would reveal deep, scarring marks on my life that would be slow to fade.

It’s that aspect that has me held in the most fear—if I do finally free myself, to what ailments do I abandon myself to because of their mark? Alienation? My dear reader, there is nothing more terrifying than the prospect of freedom—yet more terrifying the prospect of imprisonment. I am trapped.

This is my desperation. This is my own burden—caused by failure’s rancid embrace. I long, oh how I long for it to release me. The constant throbbing pain in my heart from their grasp has become a constant reminder of my guilt and imprisonment.