I sit here watching Lord of the Rings, but I fade in and out of the movie. I feel I am not quite here. A numbing feeling fills me, my thoughts cannot speak in proper rhyme. I know not this feeling, but I feel it frequently. No words, but loss. I wish it gone, but some perverse feeling fills me with dread at losing it. I delve into the deep recesses of my mind in hopes of unearthing its full lode from my soul, but with each journey I feel I must dig deeper. This addiction is running my life. I cannot focus for long without my wandering soul beginning to dig away from responsibilities. I cannot understand it. I know the consequences, but I cannot avoid them in my soul. I feel detached and removed from all. I almost wish horror on my life for the existential spite I may attempt to retort. Losing my sanity to my own anxious worries. Part of me wants my madness, but then what? What comes from...