I don't have very much to say. It is 9 something in the AM on this wretched day of our Lord. Been writing all night. Have to finish this one, this book because I realize how quickly the sands of time run low. We are after all just sands of Time counting back down to zero. Was a rough chapter even with the buffer of 14 beers. Now my eyes are starting to cross, to form a cross into that juxtaposition of sleep, where reality blends with what is, what was, and what could have been.
No pictures for this post, just sadness. Sometimes I feel my tears are my truest friends. But what exactly does it mean to be a friend? Someone to listen to your ups as well as your downs then duck out to their own? I feel I've shut down. I don't want friends. Not that I want enemies, but when you give yourself to others and they vanish in an instant eternity, a piece of you dies along with them.
And I'm not just referring to my dog, for most of my closest friends are dead, some I had to watch die, feel them die, held them as I was there to try and save them, their only hope, but ultimately failed. This life feels so temporary, yet we try and give it so much more. It is like trying to understand mathematics without understanding 0 (zero). We all return to the starting point. Some return to less than zero, and that is how ghosts are formed. They become lost. But aren't we all?
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