Input title

There's always so much going on in my head, yet for the past few years I haven't been able to truly grasp or express it.

As if the ruins of my mind are overrun by the scattered and fragmented remnants of my past, and any time I turn on a light to speak or write, they all scatter like roaches scurrying off to the nearest obscuring shadow.

It's sad how this simple post feels like the most coherent thing I've said in a while.