Journal Excerpt

I admit it, I am a terrible influence.
My poisoned thoughts invade those inhabiting the minds of others.
They change with the wind,
but there is never a decrease in their potency,
never a decrease in how loathsome they are toward myself and others.
No one is safe from the cerebral run-off,
more toxic than an oil spill or nuclear waste.
The most kind-hearted can't escape unscathed,
even monsoons of melancholy cannot aid in ending the drought.
My heart is as dry and brittle as ever,
and I fear such shall never change.