Who wants to know that the person you love and need the most can just vanish forever

I wish my shadow would get up and walk beside me.

I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I'm watching it burn right to the ground.

I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes when the grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.

What kind of world is this? And what do you do about it? What do you do when the worst thing that can happen actually happens?

I suddenly feel left out of a future that isn't even going to happen.

I'm layering away: sauce, noodles, I belong to you, cheese, sauce, my heart is yours, noodles, cheese, I hear your soul in your music, cheese, cheese, CHEESE.