At one moment I'm on top of the world, filled with passion and energy ready to take on the world by crushing it with the palm of my hands. Heavy metal music playing in the background as I walk through the fiery depths of hell, unscathed that even Lucifer himself would personally invite me to host his party. A feeling so powerful that every word spoken from my choice of weapon, people will follow diligently without hesitation.

Then the next moment, I'm drowning in an ocean of doubt. My never ending paranoia over meniscule matters lurking in every corner. After each blink, I catch glimpses of the Reaper hovering towards me swirling his scythe around like a seasoned bartender and my feet are planted into the ground with decayed arms spanning outwards trying to grab onto my flesh.




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