LIke all of my feelings have been deadened.

Instead of feeling sharp things, like I should, like I normally do, like happiness, like pain, they echo, echo, echo, and dissipate instead, and reach me, here.

It's like I've let my concentration slip, and I've spread out from my normal person-shape, and am limitless, endless, infinate, like I have spread out too far, and as a result cannot bring myself back.

I get answers when I am like this.

I shouldn't do those things. Like phoning you. I shouldn't do it.

I shouldn't be disappointed that they don't like me as much as I like them. It shouldn't matter.

I shouldn't have written this entry. It didn't help anything. It didn't get me anywhere.

It is best not to get them back. They'll only leave you faster, and look behind less.

So long and goodnight.