Gosh darn it, I'm trying hard. I'm trying to let the nights pass as quickly as they can and forget them as soon as they happen, filling them with an amnesiac milk I can't see through. I'm turning on generators in my head to keep the lights on, burning away all but the necessary because I've run out of any real fuel. I'm so deep in the darkness, I can't see people all that much anymore. I can't feel the vacuum trying to suck anything in right now, and that may be a relief. Starless, lightless, heatless. I am cold, dry and pure. I am the long night in Antarctica.

I am running with elastic ribbons taught against my struggling limbs. I refuse to be pulled back. I can fix this. Shadows are shapes. I can work with shapes.