There's no one out there.

No one.

"Phone me tomorrow."

"I can't talk now."

"Hey, Rosie! I'll see you later!"

"I gotta go. I'm sorry."

I want to talk. I gotta talk. I'm in agony. My head feels like it's going to explode.

I can't find anyone. I can't find anyone. I just can't find anyone.

Everyone's gone.

Everyone's out.

Ah, I feel the thick, sweet tug of depression.

I feel it.

It's the prickle at the corners of my eyes.

I'm going to cry tonight. I know I am. I cried today, so I'm going to cry tonight.

Once I've been brought to tears once, they come all too easily. I'll cry all day if I'm allowed to. I'll cry until I'm sick. I'll cry until I'm nothing but a dry husk of what I once was.

Everyone's out having fun. I'm surrounded so disconnectedly by all this joy. But it doesn't touch me.

No, it's removed. Just that much removed. I can see it, but I can't feel it.

I wish I could just forget. I wish I had programming; I wish I could just drag unpleasant thoughts and memories to the recycle bin, and they'd get overwritten by happier memories.

I have to cry. I need to cry. I want to cry.

I wish...I need...oh god...

I'm slowly my shearing my heart into splinters, bit by bit, so I don't get the exploding tinkle.

I want someone to share my pain with, in case I start to break under all this weight.

I'm starting to feel dully numb.

Does that make sense?

Dully numb.

The pain is still there; it's just dulled. But the lack of feeling pain is feeling numb.

Therefor, dully numb.

...

I think I'm going to go buy an office chair tomorrow.

.

Rosie.

Before&After