Darkness has a powerful grip on both the weak and strong alike...but whispers of hope are in the air!
He had long ago forgotten his real name; or maybe he just didn’t want to remember it. If he remembered his name, then he would have to admit to himself that he was once somebody. That, he was sure, would snap any resemblance of sanity he had left. The only thing that kept him from throwing himself off the Golden Gate Bridge was the voices. They soothed him, and kept him company. Through the pain of years of begging, stealing, and beating people for what he needed, only the voices gave him a constant sense of comfort and direction. They never judged, but they encouraged him to do what he needed to do to survive. They understood what it took to survive in an ugly and pretentious world.