i find i can no longer manage. being in company or without. or even just being.
it is as if the only existing trace of my living importance is in this lonesome virtualism.
look, but i'm not even here.

this is a terrible condition with only enough room for one.
no place for co-existence. for faith for liking or even love.

makes my misery now feel like something out of an alaskan love song.

You hope for a thoughtful person who would come along to enable your delusions so that your pain could be briefly forgotten. but what would it make you?

my back hurts and i just want to cry.