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People are going to be afraid of you.

Every day, I pull myself out of bed. There is only one thought in my mind: Today, maybe you will forgive me.

One day, I will not be able to remember my own name.

I will not need to regret having regrets: there will be none for me to know.

Everyone gives up on me, so I’ve given up on everybody.

I’ve been drawing a lot of elephants. We used to be like elephants, striding in a pack filed neatly and tied at the tails. Rotten hemp tethers splintered apart so now things are less substantial. Photo-evading blue pencil makes comfort images like a coastal landscape of Oregon by Mount Saint Helen’s.

Saint Helen’s what? Maybe the way I think is too possessive.

Nobody says outright, “People are going to be afraid of you”, or in active phrasing “You are going to frighten people”. Because it’s not a comforting thought like your mother or favorite teachers would console you with when things go a bit wrong. Most of people’s problems tend to involve oneself and not a wider audience. There is no immediate threat, no reason to be threatened. But if there’s hurt at stake then whoever is aware is going to try and avoid feeling responsible.

I first became an atheist, as I'd been born a Catholic. The second revealed me no answers; the first would not make truth. So I taste-tested everything and when, having finished, I found myself none too satiated by the table’s offerings, held my breath.

So dire, these straits have become. I was strained at the waist, pulled taut from the earth like some root shaped like a young boy.

Mother and Father taught me that love is a true thing. You handle it with gentle weight like you mark the ivory key of a piano.

People are going to be afraid of you.

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