December 5, 2000: Warning signs no one saw

My attempt is to force change—I’m leaving lights on where it was once dark. I’ve taken away sound where music once grew. Playing out a normal routine has saddened my heart worse than expected. Therefore, I must be the one who heals what’s been torn. The sickness in my soul is masked depression. Until I figure out what brought me here…I can’t hide what it’s doing to me. My only chance of survival is mental separation—without it, I’ll kill myself before Christmas.