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I have had to stop writing for a moment because my pain almost got the best of me again. The best way to describe it 99% physical, from my injury, and 99% mental, from all the damage my injury caused in my life. The pain was returning and physically crippling me again and in the past all I could do was hide from the world. So that’s what I did, again. I could say I’m fighting too many battles and I’m tired of fighting the world or that my writing computer broke, but the truth is that I was just scared. Scared of sleeping because I keep dreaming of the life I once had or should have now but don’t, so I don’t sleep much anymore. Scared of talking to people or seeing anyone because I don’t want people to feel sorry for me, I don’t like the word sorry because it’s proved meaningless in my life and has only served to hurt me. And to the opposite, people can say some pretty mean shit and it does add to the pain, just because I don’t see the people talking doesn’t mean I can’t hear. Anyway, I’ve had a lot of time to think about writing and the whole horror thing. Since too many people have their own definition of just what horror is, I’ve decided to just write under Dark Fiction because that’s what it really is. Just dark stories and people can call it whatever they want from there. I have stories that range from science-fiction to supernatural to who knows what the hell to call it, but they are all a dark and a little screwed up. My real life is a psychological horror in itself with the way out always being just out of reach and the only way to truly get out is to keep trying, to keep writing.