Woke depressed today. Pressed down and emptied. My people are vanishing one by one by one. Apparently I don’t know how to care for some properly, others in the right way. No-one telling me anything in time for the fact. Then there’s the very few who don’t want to leave, but must. I’ve got something I don’t know about the world, and I like that, but not this morning. This morning is hard. Difficult. Weight is filling my lungs to the point where I don’t want to breathe. I rise from continuously waking, reaching out for someone who isn’t there, to my fathers increasingly disturbing letters. This is not what I need when I’m bloody and bleeding.
I could call out now, but you would not come.