Can I go back in time? I no longer wish to remain in the present; it has become a great weight, bearing down on me from all sides, and I can no longer support the load. I fracture from the force of it and feel reality shift — you don’t seem to notice the change. Don’t realize that I cannot stay here, locked helplessly within the grip of my many mistakes and weaknesses — choices and attributes that I had formerly called strength and truth. Did I merely fool myself into believe that wrong was right, or that I was somehow justified? I look around me now and see nothing but the blank drab of empty space, artfully disguised beneath the lies that give it meaning: heaping piles of useless objects to distract me, a multitude of superficial people to keep me company, painted smiles and half-hearted laughter to fill in the silence that eats away at me. This is not the life I wanted to live and this is certainly not the way I wish to feel. The urge to flee the scene of this awful crime, this mockery of meaning, is so violently strong that I cannot bear it. But you do not even see it. And I wonder how far gone I’ll be when you notice that something is different. Or if you ever will.