I don't. I don't believe it. I don't believe. This. I don't. I don't believe it.
Well. The walls have gone up again, because without them, I don't know what I'd do. Here, at least, it's safe. If cold and lonely and even a little painful.
Every time I think I couldn't...it couldn't...
There is no end to this.
I feel as if someone just filled my body with weak acid.
I was just thinking so hard about how much I want to hug someone that I suddenly got hit by a crystal-clear image of it - almost physically hit, I rocked back in my chair at any rate. That doesn't happen to me often, and I can't recapture it now (I feel like Keats), which is probably for the best as it's not likely to be realised at all. But still. It was odd. To get hit that hard by it.
Just, ~hugs~. ~hugs~ to everyone who's going through bad times right now - or if hugs aren't what you want, then whatever it is that makes you feel safe and loved and grounded and comforted and generally less stressed.
I do have friends here.
I need to remember that they're important, too. That everyone is.
That we all let each other down sometimes, and that it's far outweighed by the number of times we're all there for one another.
And if you ever meet a guy called Dominic Carroll, punch him in the face for me. Well, check it's the right one first - he went to Goldsmiths.