I fell into a hole last night. I was pulled in by an obsession which I can’t always fight.
I couldn’t climb out of the hole. I couldn’t distract myself from the unfilled need. I couldn’t sleep. I fought this obsession all night, but nothing would distract me from its grip. Exhausted and unsettled, I finally fell asleep about 7:30 a.m.
I don’t fall into this hole very often, but it’s always there — always reminding me it’s waiting. There’s something inside that calls to me like the sirens called the Greek heroes of legend.
I like to pretend the hole doesn’t exist. What else can I do? It’s like a giant sinkhole running through my life, but I don‘t want people to know it’s there. I don’t even want to believe it’s there. I’m like a scared man who walks very fast and whistles loudly as he’s forced to travel through a graveyard which frightens him.

Surreal dream wakes, shakes me; which is reality, which is dream?
Why do we stay in prison when there’s no lock holding us there?
Do we really need so much ‘stuff’? Do we own it? Or does it own us?
Wishful thinking: Why Ron Paul can’t (and won’t) be elected president
I’d love to move to the Caribbean, so what’s been keeping me here?
Love drives us mad, but madness rescues us from ‘horrible sanity’
Creative process can be very ugly, but I need to share mine with you
Minnesota protects its citizens from the horrors of free education online