I was in some sort of vehicle, maybe a bus, looking out over the Cerrillos wilderness during the golden hour. Hoku had gone to visit my grandparents and they offered a lead on an abandoned  building where he could squat and watch movies (it was formerly a theatre and still had electricity). The roof fell down on Hoku and killed him, splitting his body in half. I felt grief anew over his death, even though in the back of my mind I knew he had died before. I woke up sad stomach, missing Hoku.

I’m on an airplane right now, seat 16F, by the window. Can’t believe my luck. Fucking love window seats. Also excited to go to Berlin.

Every feeling I’ve experienced for the past several weeks, since I found out Cash died, is filtered by an impermeable depression. It’s like there’s a hard substance separating me from the full realization of my own emotions. When tears come to my eyes it is sporadic. It’s like the feeling of when you’re really thirsty in the morning and you only have half a sip of water, so you drink that and you’re still thirsty but don’t get up yet. Yes, I am emotionally dehydrated.

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