It's Dark

I was cold for a long time, so long that I stopped feeling it. I stopped feeling everything else too.

If I wanted to, I could open the curtains and let in some light.

I'm not going to though.

I'm scared to open them. I don't know what's out there.

All I wanted was someone to talk to. Someone of whom I could ask questions. But what's it matter? You're never here at the right times anyway. You're not here when it's darkest; when there's a weight inside me that I need help lifting.

A split consciousness skews perception.

Goodnight, Joe.