death + kind of a panic attack + existential dread -— dear pen pal, how are you? my days have been, going, admittedly a little confusing. Some days, I feel so light and happy, while other days I fear the unknown and grieve for what I lost and will lose with time's arrival. a very kind cat has welcomed me into their home, and now I live with them and their family. I believe it's name is Coralchalcedony. As much as I enjoy my time with all of them, Coralchalcedony doesn't make very tasty tea. Please don't tell xem I said that (I'm not sure if I could take any more). I just throw it behind me when she's not looking. He never notices. I see my grandmother every so often. Last time I saw her; she mentioned preparing for death's cold grip. She can't die too? She can't. She tells me stories and she has a heart of gold. Her smile always seems a mile wide. But sometimes I see the strain behind it. I want to come forward, to ask if she's alright, but I fear if she replies no and I cannot comfort her. That no words would work or even come out. What if I lose myself? If death takes her, before it takes any of them, before I can say my goodbyes, will I fall into my own grief and watch them drop? Will I die too, and be forgotten to the ever changing world? Nothing but a whisper, a ghost silently watching the world move on without me by their sides, helpless and forced to be buried in history? Nothing but a mention in a kitten's tale trying to recall their history when another asks them their family? I wish to be small again, young and foolish and careless, gossiping about the paranormal monsters hidden in the shadows of the night. I have said enough. To write any longer, I don't want to. I dread to. awaiting your response. love, sastrugi
