I have a lot to be thankful for. I also have lost an innumerable number of friends semi-recently and recently. Some I never much cared for. Some I think about every day. Through working all day and either hobbies or Emily at night, I haven't the time. My alone time consists of 11pm to 2am.

I'm increasingly compelled to indulge delusions of such hideous, misdirected rage and antipathy that I can't properly say where they come from. They don't merit description.

In psychology there's the concept of an A and B process. If the A process is getting high off coke, the B process is withdrawal. There's an inner B process that is demanding some satisfaction. I've left a lot of the old me sitting in a closet, stuffed in drawers next to old underwear and knicknacks.

Perhaps I just need more time to myself. Or it's the cycle of perpetual peripheral destruction. It's never self-destruction per se, but otherwise having a change of venue come. Work changes, friends change, even me occasionally but less than I admit. I can barely remember it all and I lived it. Why did he have to die, why did he have to disappear, why couldn't she see beyond herself. I have lighthouse glimpses as if on the waves of memory at night.

I hadn't thought of it, but Emily's friends do constitute something of a new social group. Somewhat different from the usual pattern.

Some small part of me always wondered what the bother was. I instinctively knew dying prematurely would likely literally kill my mother, so I never gave it any serious consideration. With each day, however, I remind myself of mortality. I always think while trying to sleep how I can catch myself at that one moment, where you know you're conscious and then suddenly time leaps forward. Somehow that moment seems most akin to death. I'm afraid of it. Drawn to it powerfully, but ultimately wondering if what I've been taught is true, if what I think I've experienced with spirits and discarnate folk is true, or if that'll be that--and what the hell that was.

I'm not sure how I'm handling being not solitary anymore. I do kindof just want to crawl back between the rocks of the shoreline and listen to the wind blow. All of the activity makes me tired.

Tired.

I miss (most of) you all.

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