In the 17 years I have roamed this planet, I have learned naught but one thing, and one thing only;

Grief does not change us, it reveals us.

The universe wants to be noticed, but what we want is to be noticed by the universe; to have the universe give a shit what happens to us- each of us- as individuals. But the universe will never see us, it will never hear the silenced screams of the suffering.

It feels like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memories itself, as if the things we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before.

You all will continue to tell me to think about the good memories I had with Xylon. But the pleasure of remembering has been taken from me because there is no longer anyone to remember with.

Do you worry about who will take care of you when your parents die? As well you should, because they will be worm food in the fullness of time.

You think volcanoes are awesome? Tell that to the ten thousand screaming corpses of Pompeii. You still secretly believe that there is an element of magic in this world? It's all just soulless molecules bouncing against each other randomly.