...

What else. I'm dead, yet still somehow living.

I curled up in the shower today, because that's the only way my body could cope with the violent crying and the gasping for air. Somehow I was holding myself against a wall and hot water beating my back as I sobbed against a wall.

I'm dead, yet, somehow I feel every single ounce of everything in my soul. I have nothing to left to say. Nothing that doesn't involve begging and clinging to you like salvation from this purgatory.

I'll start over tomorrow. I'm sorry I am weak. I am sorry I'm not normal. I'm sorry for everything under the sun and moon.