I look back on my life and think about how much of a constant I've been to others and how lonely I am now, how inconsistent and inaccessible any connection is. I think when I die, people will miss me, but if I continued to live like this - a shell of myself, still completely deteriorating, lonely, empty, everybody would be fine with it. They could speak to me a few times a year and that would be enough. And how is that better than if I disappeared? I've already disappeared. I'm not at all anything like the person I was, and even that person wasn't happy, just more distracted, more swayed by daydreams. I wish I could make people understand this somehow without saying it.
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