First semester 2000

I have nary an idea where to begin nor an inkling of a clue where this will end, but isn't that the case with most of my stories? However, in the case of most of my stories, an alternate reality is created, whereas in this, my reality becomes a story.

I don't remember how it started. Something like, "within the isolated walls of West Point..." There's something that I want to talk about. Something knawing at my heart. What ails meis probably so simple, I fear to reveal it or else so copmlex, the issue is only just surfacing.

I die, I fade away; body, mind, and spirit break down. In the late of the night, when all distractions are at a minimum, is when I speak...