I would say it seems like just yesterday when we were altogether, young and free spirited, but it doesn’t. The many years in between have been felt, and those days feel like a lifetime ago. Almost ten years have been spent, and I still wonder if anything meant anything at all. Stuck in the future, I mourn for a past I always hated. The pressure of time weighs heavy, and if I think about it for too long, I become catatonic. My passing through life has been strangely satisfying and disturbingly ironic. But I have seen and experienced and learned so much to have led such a seemingly sheltered childhood. I would change nothing, and that in itself is reason for therapy. I feel like calling sometimes. When I awake from dreams of a fading cast.