Psychic Sleeplessness

What is the point of running? Hiding? When you know none of these things will make your problems vanish? Drowning in alcohol isn't a very smart option, is it? I hope today, when I step outside into the bright sunlight, my courage will not desert me and my instincts to run and hide deep in a dark cavern somewhere will not kick in. Intellect is like a useless weapon in the hand of a pacifist if you choose not to exercise it. So I will. Grumble though I may, I won't back down when faced with the gates to that place I detest so much. Even the brightest star may yet fail and die. Nothing is constant in this ever-changing world. Let inspiration sweep me up and carry me away. The merest whisper gives me strength, and I hope in this last game I have left, I will not fail. If this is the end, so be it. I will go down in a blaze of glory. For every star that has gone down, a million still twinkle in the velvet skies above us. I may have spent the night wide awake, but I was dreaming all the same. The sandman has failed to tempt me yet again, but the Muses are my friends, and they were faithful to their duties. Now, inspiration and hope are two separate entities, though they are closely related, and it takes a keen mind and strong heart to distinguish between the two. I cannot claim to possess either one, but I am a master at unravelling the intertwined. I digress, however. Back to the point...my night was spent in careless dreams, and I realise that that old adage rings true. Fear is magnified when you back away. If...if I had not backed away, if I had faced up to my fears...then perhaps. Quizas. As sunlight whispers over the horizon, and my Muses flee from the harsh reality of morning, I find myself torn. These dreams, that I of all people know can never be realised...or me, coming out to face the world. My closet is full of skeletons, and while I like it here among them, I guess...some dreams are never meant to be. For those who so far have been able to decipher my hidden codes and inflections in every post, well done. If only men were capable of storing courage for later use. But if onlys serve no viable purpose, except to entice the weak to look back in time and get stuck in their own memories. The whole point to this extremely cryptic entry? I am praying for courage. When I stand at the gates, and I am about to enter and get judged, I pray that I will not be found wanting.
What awaits? Fortune-tellers, come forth.