The Prisoner's Lament

I've done a lot of writing offline this year, which is probably how it should be and how it'll most likely continue. What can I say? It is May, the year is passing at some pace. So far it has only shown my weakness and inability to hold to a straight line. I forget things, even the important things. I am a prisoner. So easily devoured. The pressures of the struggle pressing against my being, the limitations of will exposed. We are eaten by mechanical forces which ever seek to lead us away from contact with the presence of that fragment of being that is real and living within the dead husk of personality.