I stopped crying about things a long time ago, and that in itself is bad. At least when there were tears, I was still here, struggling and messed up, but here.

And now I don't struggle or weep, I just lie down and take it.

I know that when people grow up the pieces that make them up change. Not that I'm growing up or anything, but...

It feels like I've lost all of the important parts of myself already. By the time I'm twenty three there won't be any of me left.

Not that I was so great in the first place. But I was better than this ... wasn't I?

A few more steps towards hermit girl. Soon there'll be nothing left.

Or maybe just enough left to remain semi-conscious but still be unable to amount to anything. The distinctly scarier possibility.

<< >>