August 3rd, 2017

Yesterday was my last day of 17. And almost 2 years passed since I saw mom for the last time.

I find suicide to be something really weird. In a way, as best as I can describe it really, it's kinda like hydrolysis.
It's a term used for elimination, isn't it? It's also one for substitution.
Do you believe in past lives? I do. I think that, in my last life, I had the same thought process.
And, well, I mean, if reincarnation is real and you do retain some memories from your past, it makes some sense.
Something just kinda feels off, I guess. I think I'm just not able to cope with the fact I've officially turned into an adult?
Who knows. I don't. But, whatever. I guess I'm Myla's guardian for now. Always was, to be honest.
She wanted to kick us both out around the time Myla turned 12. Fucking TWELVE!
Fuck, whatever, I don't care anymore. She's gone.
And I'm a bit happy.
Though it feels as if I'm undergoing hydrolysis myself.