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Once it started, I couldn't stop the train of thoughts from running through my head.
"You're a loser, you're worthless, no one would ever love you," on and on this was repeated. I couldn't prevent myself from thinking it, so I let it run its course.
As the usual sobs of depression shook me, the train endlessly ran.
I'd tell you that I was devestated, but at that time I couldn't feel anything. The priest spoke mundane words of passing from a far-off place, each mourner somehow floating outside of my time plane.
I didn't understand what was happening. I couldn't grasp it, death? What does that mean? Everyone here is crying, so death makes people cry? Should I be crying?
After the procession crowds of solemn, empathetic faces speak kind words. They apologize for my loss, they offer time and money, all I do is stare at them, confused. "Sorry?" Should I forgive them? What are they apologizing for?
Still, I return every hug and give thanks for every uplifting word, yet I'm still in auto-pilot and I can't really feel a thing.
Today at evening I sat on my lawn and watched the sky. As minutes passed, I watched as clouds rolled away and were replaced by hues of orange and pink; purple brushstrokes squeezed generously in between. Then all within seconds all was erased and covered in a blanket of stars...
I flipped the switch and played around with the antenna, but still all I could hear was static. Frustrated, I sat there and just listened to the buzzing.
Almost instantly I had fallen into the deepest sleep I've ever experienced.
I can remember when I would wish for you to learn my name.
I can remember when I would pray for you to keep it in your mind all day.
Now all I can hope is that you would never forget it.
A cool breeze overtakes me, making me shiver. I feel almost refreshed by this chilling sensation running across my spine-- and all within two seconds, it's gone. I hit up another round and let it happen again, and again, and again.