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Standing at the door of the life you choose to lead is a demon who is calling you over, ready to let
you in. The demon gives you no warning that what comes next may be accompanied with
addictions and obsessions. Physical compulsion. Psychological compulsion. This demon doesn't
even open the door for you, this demon just simply stands there with a large grin. The demon
doesn't open the door for you so that when you realize you've made a mistake, you have no one else
to blame but yourself for opening that door.

Last night, I had a dream. I'm in my kitchen, and I notice that the garbage bag is full. I take it out to
the trash bin outside and throw it inside the bin. As I turn around to go back inside a little girl who
is riding her pink bicycle almost runs into me, but she panics and instead rides into the fence and
falls off of her bicycle. I go to see if she is okay, and she is bleeding at her knees. I ask her if it hurts
because she isn't crying. She says yes, and I tell her that I will go inside and get a bandage for her.

When I get inside my apartment I head for the bathroom and I find a box of bandages. On my way
out, I go through the kitchen and I see that the garbage bag is full yet again. I look through the door
that I opened to go throw out the trash, and I see the little girl still sitting there waiting for a
bandage.

I look at the garbage bag one more time, it's still full, and then I go back outside and put the
bandage on her knee. I tell her that her knee is as good as new, and then I watch as she walks her
bicycle across the alley. I look back through the door that is still open and I see inside my
apartment. I'm thinking about how I just threw out the trash, and how the trash was filled back up
again. I walk a few feet and I open the garbage bin that I just threw the trash into, and it's empty, as
if I had never actually thrown out the trash.

So I go back inside, take the trash bag back outside and throw it in the garbage bin. Now I know
that I've thrown out the trash. However, when I go back inside my apartment, the garbage bag is
full yet again. I go back outside to see if the garbage bin is empty. It is. I repeat the process one
more time to see what happens, and when I come back inside to see if the garbage is finally thrown
out, I see that not only is it not thrown out, but that there are now two garbage bags in the house;
one in the trash can and one on the floor next to it. I think to myself, this must be a joke from God.

I pick up both garbage bags, and instead of going outside to the trash bin next to my apartment
building, I go to the next one over and throw them in there, but it doesn't make a difference as when
I return back home, there are five garbage bags resting on the floor of my living room. I start to
laugh angrily.

As I'm laughing, I hear the engine of a large vehicle. When I look outside, it's the garbage truck
collecting garbage from our neighborhood. I run outside and catch up to them and tell them that I
have four more garbage bags to deliver as I throw the one I was carrying inside the back. Because
they are patient and kind gentlemen, they wait as I throw the remaining four garbage bags into the
truck, and not to your surprise, when I return home I can't see half of my living room because of the
garbage bags that have magically appeared out of nowhere.

Two by two I fill up my car with as many garbage bags as I can, and then I drive down to the