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Free Writing - Take 69

Type type type. Delete. Over and over I do it. So afraid to offend. Silence from where I want to hear noise. Constant silence. The only time I hear anything, is the rehearsed, timed responses. The same conversations each and every day. I hear them on the phone. I hear them spoken. Each day. Even the faint muttering to oneself is the exact same. It's like being trapped in an awful version of Grounhog's Day, but without the knowledge it can be changed and it can't be ended. The same exact routine over and over. Even alone, I sleep and wake up. I lie in bed or maybe I get up. I eat immediately, but what if I am not hungry? I don't eat. I don't follow this rule, this painful fucking rule that each day I must have the bowl filled with the same contents, the same tea, the same one hour and 15 minutes. The routine, which if broken sends the day into a tailspin. The pattering of keys, the sound of the shower or maybe not. The written note, 12:45 or is it 1:00 or 1:15 today? The idea of picking up what one needs for three four days seems simple, but then the routine is broken. The same time every single day. The shake, the stir, the memories of everything after that first sip, lost. Lost, not for the night, it doesn't come back in drips and drabs, it is lost forever. The next day, the same question, the confused look. The complete lack of awareness that this conversation has been had before. And the excuse. It's all to hide the reality. The same real reason it's been since 2005, which was the same in '95 and back in '85. Maybe even '75 or even '65. The night's celebration of life was one of nothingness. Was it even remembered? The past ones have been received with an "oh yeah." I think back to conversation towards the end, where I was warned of this and to be understanding. Sorry, I can't be, because it's a choice, not an affliction. Or is it?

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