* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It's dark, it's soft with some pokey out bits some of which are sharp and hurt; it's like anyone else's head really.


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Monday, December 16

Life. Death. Working. Terminated. Sane. Insane.

So much has happened since I last wrote here. I'm alive, working, and sane -- don't worry. But there are others in my life that haven't been as lucky. I'm going to skip the first two because there's not much to be done about death and termination.

I have a friend who is going insane; I haven't talked to him much the last year so when he called the other night I was surprised to hear how far away his voice sounded, as if he was yelling up from the bottom of a deep hole. When I asked about his plans, he immediatly started telling me that he had no plans this time to kill himself. I meant work, home, vacation, he meant a way to get from the pain and confusion.

There is nothing you can do for someone who is losing their mind except stand close enough to help but not so close that you are dragged down with them. You might hope that you could love someone enough to make them better, but you can only love them as they fall.

That just sucks.