It’s all so old and tired. The same game with different names. Each hour is a challenge and a chore, and I can feel myself crumbling, crumbling… I watch all the little pieces of me flake off and float away, and I wonder how I am still whole. My dreams, my desires, they all melt into obscurity until nothing is left but this present moment: a thousand tiny fissures, ready to burst apart at the slightest touch. Because I can no longer stand to bear the weight of my heart’s desires, as I am let down and let down again. As I let myself down, every single day. And I know you would understand. But you will never be here again to to understand it.