Someone tell me what the underworld is like. (Day 164)

I saw her picture today, and goddamn, she looks so happy.

She's a big, big, big piece of my past, and I can't touch her, see her, hear her or talk to her anymore. It partly drives me insane to know that somewhere in this whole calamitous existence known as life, things once seemed to make sense, and I was so close...so close and so near being happy.

What the fuck am I doing now?

I can't stop thinking, you know? What's after this conscious existence? What awaits in the ether? Do you relive what just happened, over and over and over. Maybe that's it. Maybe we've died a thousand times before, but our lives are stuck on a loop. Maybe Deja Vu is just overlapping with yourself at the same time? Shit, it makes just as much sense some guy in the sky judging you for every step of the road.

And I look at her picture, and at times I just...wish I could relive it again. Not even change it, just...fully appreciate it for what it was, because I should have known there's no way it would have ever lasted. And it's not that I even want it too, for Gods sake. I just want to appreciate it once again, because I don't have it in me to ever lay myself on the line again. Yeah, I might only be 23, but I've seen enough and felt enough to sustain me for the rest of my life.

And so I look at her face, and I remember missing that first time. I look at her smile, and realize I'm not capable of putting it on anyone's face anymore like I did hers. And maybe I never was all that hot at it before, but for that moment in time, it's what I owned.

I'm glad she's happy somewhere else now. I know I'm better off as well.

But that's a piece of me I'll never be able to reclaim, which is fine. It just feels extremely naked.

"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl."

-Until tomorrow.