We fall into the rivers with our pockets full of stones

Like a conversation between two friends once close but separated by time, this entry will begin with a discussion about the weather.

10 years ago I may have described the current weather as azure blue skies and miles of magnolia white clouds. These days everything seems a little less beautiful. So it's sunny, and partly cloudy; 29 degrees, visibility more than 10 kilometres - very fine weather, by all means. A very fine day really, except for the fact that my teeth are chattering, my hands and feet are turning blue and the sight of that empty shadow in the mirror breaks my heart.

Suffice to say I haven't been well; that it's becoming real difficult to keep this masquerade.

The dreams have returned. Sharks, clowns, doors swinging open, dense fog, strange landscapes. I dream of lashing out at faceless menaces, only to find their wounds on my arms. I wake up disoriented, I have no idea where I am. Dreams haunt me even in the sunlight, and I check over my shoulder. Just in case.

I feel the slide that I've come to know so well. This is just the beginning, there's more to come. I'm done with fighting. Maybe if I didn't fight back, it wouldn't hurt so bad. A decade ago I witnessed a death, but maybe this time things will be different.

It's yet another replay.

Maybe this will be the last.

AnRu reminisced at 6:23:00 PM.