it is surreal how nothing outside seems affected. the world has not stopped for me to catch up, and i still do not feel as though i have started moving again. yet. whichever.

[excuse me while i eat rice krispies.]

and the only comparison an english speaking person can ever give you is that it is just like riding a bike. at best it is first like learning how to ride a tricycle, then a bicycle, and then a unicycle. and if that is the case then i am even more stuck than i thought; i am out of wheels.

i have scars from bike accidents, and still occasionally fall over. so perhaps the analogy is fitting after all.

and stupidly too close to a pun, another cycle is exactly what i am afraid of. nothing will happen for years, and when it does it will be great for six months or four years and then i will wish i am dead for a year or two.

blah blah blah, i know. but one of the worst parts of all of this is the crushing loneliness. not only the specific feeling of separation and removal, but also the knowledge that there pretty much is not anything anyone can do or say. i will take all the help i can get, but i mean in the giant crumbling mural sense, nothing will fix it. or me.

it is painful to know where you want to be, to have it so close, and to be unable to do anything about it. and it is all becoming too much.



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number 9.. .   .? andy andy andy, get your adverbs here

the moment's already passed