too late,
with the curtains close,
and the lights open.
I didn't notice at first until I walked past my study table to get to the bathroom when I saw a purple plastic bag on it. I know what it was, food; pastries. Pizza bread, cheese bread, baby croissants as I would call it, things I can't or find it hard to stuff into my mouth these days and it made me almost teary to be remembered and cared for this way although only in this way most times. When all I'm going to do is disappoint them. Everything I'm doing is causing myself to wither away and I'm starting to fall back behind and it gets me bonkers to think about, so I don't, which only makes it worst for everyone else and I feel like I can't go on.
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