Yes, if the tide of doubt were not so overwhelming in its tsunami-like
  force, I could be persuaded that all is for the best.  Many time had I
  revisited such a train of thought, a false sense of security fostering
  a blissful dream-like reverie that, alas, was to be all too ephemeral.
  Into my poppy-populated garden of illusion intruded a being, a monster
  so hideous and vile that my very soul shriveled in utter revulsion.  A
  feeling so transforming overtook me that it was as if I became another
  sort of person altogether, not even a person really, but a vapid shell
  or husk containing a hollowness that reverberated with the faint songs
  of celebration so lately sung with vigor and aplomb.  The monster made
  a survey of the ruined garden with it slitted yellow eyes, then issued
  a laugh, a cackle so maniacal that the very hairs atop my head erected
  themselves and shivered in abject fear.  But as my spirit plummeted to
  the very depths of despair, I experienced the faint glimmer of an idea
  that might, perhaps, save me from complete and utter ruin.  Perhaps, I
  thought, this monster might be placated by a cup of tea, or some wine.
  When in doubt, co-opt your nemesis.  I smiled, approached, and OH NO T

1 responses total.

It must have been a dark and stormy night.

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