what do i call you?
my internal monologue runs rampant throughout the night, but when faced with this blank page, I still can't seem to tell you what I came here to do.
but we cannot sever this connection. i must keep something, you, to keep from disorienting. similar to the way i rub my hands together when I feel my grounding in reality has torn slightly.
if you like me too, then why cant i put my hands on you?
please talk to me
come back january 1st