i've got nothing. i've used all my words on this site. i don't want to keep updating. i have nothing else in me to say. there's nothing left to eviscerate. no organs to autopsy. over a year here. no progress. 15 weeks til my birthday. what's progress? where am i? i am nowhere. i have no face anymore. i am spinning backwards, upside-down. i am falling through the earth, to a cold and frozen core. i lost my voice from shouting. im tired and nauseous and sweaty. can you play piano? i wish i could. imagine the colors weaved on the two-tone keys. imagine being free, like a bird. can you, even? who's at the door? oh, it's you. who were you expecting? i knew it would be you, i just hoped you had changed. but you haven't. i'm sorry i'm still me. you always say that.