everything's tiring. i cant catch a break. seven hours a day, and for what? to rot away? to shove meaningless tech into my already flooded brain? some days are easier. most are not. things arent the same as it was then. i miss running around with them in the field. our imaginations full with the highest capacity of creativity and joy. not a care in the world for judgment. things were simpler then. i hate not being ten anymore. theres that kid still somewhere inside me. and he just wants to play with pokemon cards and draw. he doesnt know what the internet is. hes innocent. free. happy. but theres still something wrong. hes dying. and im desperately trying to keep him alive. i cant let the dark get to him again. i cant let him die. please stay with me. hold my hand. dont ever let go. not again. not ever. never.
- iz
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