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800 days

one day is too much. Waking into the quiet empty space - no other voice, no movement. nothing.

This is how it has been and the way it will be from now on. Simple fact.

I can't imagine living with the vain hope of improvement; returning to the way it was. But that's how it's been for her these 800 days. Hoping against impossible odds.

To me it seems a freak show of desperation. But I have not had to face that harsh reality. I don't know if I would fare any better. Maybe I would also fill the air with delusion: Do everything possible to distract my attention from the simple fact that there is no going back. It's all gone.

No second chances. No opportunity to watch it all disappear.

It's already gone.


what are you talking about?
Oh... never mind.
it is all gone.
Anything that ever mattered.

first off: i can't believe i'm just reading this now. second: all we are is dust in the wind or some sappy bullshit. and yeah, that's been happening to me quite a lot, too. ashes to dust to sticks to stones to grass to ocean to coast to coast, nothing matters nothing is real. eyes opening eyes closing.

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