Is there more to see?" Brixton asks. "No. Just a long walk back to hope.

It's what we do, we continue on. Yet, what is the point? There is nothing ahead of us when there is nothing left of us.

And I realize, so suddenly that it hurts, just how empty a creature can be, while still filled to the brim with drowning agony.

No amount of speed could break me of this darkness... The sorrow is ever clinging to me.

Once a month, for one evening, we are free to wear our natural skins. We are on the outside as we are internally.

We aren't taught to mourn. We're told to forget.