vagabonddaniel-recordedarchives:

How do you think? I broke apart. Whatever small pieces of my brain were clinging to sanity lost their grip in a flood of grief and loss so profound that it made the sound rush out of the world. The air was sucked from the atmosphere. Everything stopped and I was sure, so sure, it would never start again. And worse, part of me didn’t want it to. 

When it did, I ran. Not from anything – there was nothing but ash to run from. And not to anything – there was nothing but ash to run toward. So I ran aimlessly across the globe as if I could escape the grief, but it was inside me, clawing at my bones, scraping at my soul. Tearing down whatever shreds of lucidity were left in me until I was a hollow, wandering thing, useless and doomed.