Failure.

I suppose lying to myself is not the resolve. Sitting on the floor in that small room, nose running, eyes watering. The unspeakable. I went almost two days without it. My failure will not pull me down into it's lair, will not wrap it's dark arms around me and put me to sleep, forever a slave of it's painful task. No, I will stand, and I will continue to chip away at my task. This is not over.