I havent been around in a while. I've just been gone.
That casual way that turns days into weeks and then months blurred my image and my voice. There is no image. There is no voice. I want it to be erased. I cannot control time passing. The idea of it moving is hateful. You and your body will not wait, and I will never ask you to. Evrything is so vivd and real. I promise it will be different.
Things go away, come back, and leave again. New things pass and manifest and swell and dissapear. You can stay. You can try and wait. Maybe forever can exist for you, if you want.
Everything dies. Even me.