Recently, in my private journal 'Under the World', I've written a piece on sadness, which at one time or another, afflicts all of us. I've published it below. Tell me your thoughts.
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Whatever this affliction is, I feel it feasting on my core. Tearing away at my limbs. Burrowing itself deeper and deeper into my being. And then, I really don’t know what happens next.

I would hate to give it a name. Depression. Blues. Boredom. Evil. That would be confirming its real presence. I prefer it confined to lumps of descriptive thought. Harness its force into prose or poetry. Anything to keep it imaginary.

But how long can I cage it in me? How long can I put on this face? How long before it gnaws at my mask and leaves me bare and naked before the world? Exposed.

I try to tell myself this isn’t me. I’m not THIS vulnerable. I can’t be weak. Especially not now. The timing would be devastating. But how can one inject the convenience of time into an unknown demon?

Not demon. Maggots. I shall call them maggots. And I will try to keep them at bay today.