what we didn't want to do was start over what we didn't want to do was let someone else make our decisions for us what we didn't want was an extra side of apathy with our order and oh ethan how we tried, we tried so hard to remember clinging to that rock face, sisyphus and and prometheus both how we loved and lost and won the battle lost the war

those rounds those squares those angles this chair my love and you - there could be a place a place a place here
it's so cold here in the house right now such a sense of foreboding and i can feel the other side of this wall, almost as if i could put my hand right through it i am afraid to try because i think right now in these hours of hell and steel i just might, like a ghost, and then i will lose you i will pass through and i will subsist on ghostly meagerness and memory of you, and you will not know how to follow me

this panic is like a shaking bundle of clanging heavy cords of metal, wire jangling and shrieking with aggression and cold. i am so cold right now, hands are numb and fingertips icy - our dear boy he is smiling and he is ours and i never want to let him go. we made a promise, to each other, and to him, to never let him go but those hands too strong to be anything but authority defined, they pulled us like taffy, they stretched our world thin and it snapped and suddenly the messy room and the posters and the video games and the teenaged voice were gone gone gone oh how we were supposed to take care of him, and now he's gone he may be dead and we have failed, love

my boy. my beautiful little boy.

aeschylus scratches on his tablet and we are represented by faceless chorus and meager settings. this is the wasteland, you and i here and alone and pounding against the end of the world, never able to break the glass and breathing the air that's gone heavy and stale with ignorance.

my memories! these floods of emotion are almost too much to bear. every hour they plague me, like fire racing across my scalp, and i am gasping, sobbing, my pulse rate is too high, and then it's gone. like a fever, it breaks. and then it is back again: my alarm clock used to have blue lcd, my favorite piece of music is 2 minutes longer than the one i know now, i used to have such a fondness for cinnamon. wracked, wrung, wrong.