He left me in this world alone. Sometimes I can't forgive him.
Nothing will ever be right again.
Life is the horror, not death. Life is this thing we are trapped in and death is the only escape.
I don't want to die but I don't want to live. Maybe that's the true horror: not being at home in life or death. No way in and no way out.
I can't do much in this world but I'll do my best to make another person feel less alone That's my purpose, why I write.
Writing in pain and through pain and still unable to articulate pain.
I need to be heard. I have to keep writing or I'll die before I'm dead, though I feel half-dead already.
The pain of life is shocking but what shocks me is how good I am at hiding the pain.
A never-ending list of everything I miss
Perhaps these words give voice to someone else's feelings and maybe this means that me and that someone are momentarily connected
Where no language exists, I will create one and live for it
New year's resolution: keep surviving and hope for the day when I will do more than survive
How did this happen? How did my life shatter?
Art is a reprieve from reality.
He is my darkness and my light. His death brought a void into my life but the life I had with him was the most beautiful thing I will ever know.
Where is he? I mean it. Where is he? How was he once here and now there is nothing left but this perishable memory?
I envy religious people. They have an external force (God) to grapple with. I only have a void, a massive emptiness.
Why can't I love the things he loved? I fear them. I keep them at a distance because experiencing them without him is too painful.
I once thought I was destined for something but I no longer feel that way. I feel no meaning.