At 4:30 this morning there is an abyss in me. I am delicately set nerves and useless flesh and sadness, all being held together by the gravitational pull of the gaping pit where the bottom of my stomach used to be.
I figured I might as well let my ipod charge while I wait for this hollowness in my gut to go away. So I can get back to bed and continue listening to father figure. I have 'less than 10% battery remaining.' There's a kitten on my bed trying to chew through the wooden leg of my laptop table. Working away sincerely at trying to make a dent with his brand new little person teeth on this block of wood. And I feel clinically detached. I don't want to be there, I'm going to try and work on being here.