Limits

[kyrasantae]

This was written on the back of my formula sheet as I tossed my exam.

The words as I left [my room before going to the exam]:

"I cross my heart for you... Just keep me sane."

Such are the trappings of the artist: how can unlimited expression not drive one insane? In so many ways it is the freedom to express anything, anything you want. A freedom that is unlimited.

As such, limits must then be imposed on that freedom. Those limits, though, must be chosen carefully, else they do the opposite of keeping you sane. I do not know if my imposed limits were poorly chosen, or if they were even valid at all. Suffice it to say that they have failed to save me from madness. Unfortunately I am too stubborn to change my ways. I could come up with some excuse to explain it away, but it would be useless; it would be a lie.

I've got to stop pretending that there's nothing wrong with me. I've got to stop because it's not just about me: my friends are in danger because of me. I've got to stop, but I don't know how.

Help me, my friends, if you still feel you can. I will not obligate you to do so. All I know is that if I keep on going this way, there will be nothing but my true love to accompany me to the end, and that the end will come soon because my true love cannot sustain my body, and it is slowly, slowly, killing me.