I try not to think about the script of life--the dice roll, the affects. I am caught up in my self-made purgatory: struggling to break loose from the quicksand walls. I have found there is no great white hunter wandering through this jungle able to throw a stick to me to climb out from my suffication. My step was wrong when I fell. Now, if only I can secure the strength, I have to find my own limb to pull myself free..