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drifter keeps finding new ways to tick me off. He needs to be strapped to a chair. he needs a kick in the gut and a punch to the jaw. he needs someone who understands him. he needs an intervention.
he needs his ghost.

A.M. - Praxic Observation 60: The shrill ringing of III's final breath has eased into a low hum. Thankfully, its intensity is a decibel below most everyone's auditory registration. Strangely, it brings me comfort during quiet nights. A song of death brings more peace than silence of the unknown.

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i can never say how important he is to me. the guy's already keeping me way past arm's length and avoiding me like the plague.
i'd be out of my mind to expect so much more when i have so little. still, i wish i could tell him.

A.M. - Praxic Observation 68: There's an uptick of a dry cough among those residing in the Tower called the "Caiatl cough." It's a heavy hacking resembling the empress's laugh. Though amusing, the Tower's overall health has experienced a noticeable downturn. Only a matter of time before symptoms worsen.

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i'll be honest with myself: i know i'm being unfair to him. i know this isn't his fault.
he wasn't perfect, but i thought he was mine. i'm starting to think that may have never been the case. he moves on, and i'm left behind.

A.M. - Praxic Observation 71: While hunting for the Caiatl cough cure, I noticed masses of dense minerals moving without intervention. Stones sailing unimpeded across the terrain—searching for a heartbeat, the warmth of III's core. Lost minerals, lacking in purpose. Perhaps we'll use them for medicine.

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i want to see a new universe. a world where he is the man i wish he were. i could be something more. it's just him, me, and us. nobody else. we'd be selfish together.
maybe it's best i don't speak now.