all i have been doing is crying and lighting candles for people that died a 100 years ago and cry a little more and open my window and explore the clouds and the dawn sky and cry and cry and cry. again and again, i cry over him. it’s been so long since i last spoke to him, yet i still cry because of him. i wish i could stop, i really wish i could. ‘even after we fall asleep for a long time, we will be sleeping together.’ though now heavily tainted with untruth and insincerity, i still wish it to be true. i wonder if when we die, we enter an endless dream with whatever we may like. i feel my lost love shall be there. we shall be there together.

i told my 12 year old self that i’d stay up on the night of the titanic and just be awake at the time of the sinking. i have always felt so drawn and connected to the entire tragedy and it feels only appropriate to stay up.