Still struggling, treading water or whatever. Dunno why I'm here any more. Habit?
Out of sorts. Not myself. Other such bollocks. The crying appears now and then, becomes almost like a pastime in itself.
People talk to me and I think - why? Is this habit? Does it make you feel better? Conversing feels wrong. Like a lie. Emptiness. Is this what it feels like to be stripped of character? Nothingness. I don't know who I am.