I just realized the only way anyone will ever give me flowers is on my funeral. Now I have to content myself with just looking. Thoughts and prayers and love... the dead have them in spades. And silence too. Blessed silence from a world so goddamn noisy. Many times I wish I was dead, then I think maybe I'm just tired. But since I've been tired for over a year I'm probably clinically depressed. I don't want to see a shrink. I want to get out of here.