|Im surrounded by ghosts, of what used to be: specters, of other
realities. And all these people, they swirl around me.
And their faces, and their souls; their passing changes me. They move me. They touch me. Their spirits stir me.
And sometimes, in their passing, they take a part of me. But they leave, a part of themselves. And I wonder, to whom else, Im passing them on to.
Its not a bad thing, to carry these people. Its not a dreadful thing, to feel their pain. But its a hard thing; sometimes a burden to explain