I can feel it. This happens every once in a while, but rarely can I feel it. Something deep withing the depths of my being a pit of black, noxious gunk is brewing, boiling so slowly that it's cooking all reasoning and logic, and I'm not even realizing it. Quietly it sneaks over the edges of its pit, breaking the confines, engulfing all light it comes in contact with and eating away at the blocks of brilliant white meant for protecting against such an acid. They fail, and eventually fall, rusted away by the silent killer of Sin. Bereft of logic, reasoning, and hope, the nasty goo rises up and surges through my system, purging it of light. My blood runs black, and I succumb to the lethal scythe Sin weilds expertly: Rationlization. I must stop it now, before it destroys all I've worked so hard for. I must resist... and slowly recapture the ugliness, harness it, and urge it back into the depths from which it came. And I cannot fight this battle alone...