So many humans. So many colors.
I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.
Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
Outside is dark. The kitchen light is loud. It deafens me as I walk towards it.
I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.