Twilight

Another twilight to count. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one breathe at a time, to pass a day into which nothing I do gives something to remember. Pathetic.
My memories are sieged by her (by YOU, are you around?).
I'm sorry for not having a brain right now; I'm sorry for others, my friends and the people who suffer my drowning state. Everything and everyone says it will pass... I still remember the years before, years that had passed...
Courage, dignity, even honour: too much to juggle with in a hellish longing state that doesn't allow me to think; what the hell, I only juggle with your memories in my mind; sometimes a little air comes out of that; many times it consumes it all. I am not like this, but right now I am, ha. Freaking angst.

Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the gray twilight;
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.
Thy mother Eire is always young,
Dew ever shining and twilight gray,
Though hope fall from thee or love decay
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill,
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of hollow wood and the hilly wood
And the changing moon work out their will.
And God stands winding his lonely horn;
And Time and World are ever in flight,
And love is less kind than the gray twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.

William Butler Yeats, "Into the twilight".