It's coming back again. Draining, falling, waiting, and watching. As everything familiar fades and runs together. Every worst case scenario. All downward pressure, all at once. Blocking out assurance, reason, and sense. Blocking out the flaws in logic. Blocking out your every attempt to pull me back. This time silent. If I can do this on my own, I'll be coming back more resistant and more callous. After every cycle, every downcycle, I'm anodized in reconstruction. You've decided these downcycles are necessary. The worst kind of catharsis. Are you getting anywhere?