I feel like I'm slipping, I can feel the pressure of the outside world closing in and their slimy claws grabbing and scratching at the back of my neck and I really don't think I can fight them off anymore. I usually just toss them a bunch of facts and ideas of the future to slash up and tear to pieces with their razor like nails and that would usually keep them satisfied for at least a couple months or so, but I'm starting to feel like I'm as up to par as I used to and I'm finding that the beasts are going through my bullshit quicker and quicker and only getting more hungry after each one. I don't think I can fend them off anymore. I think it's only a matter of time before their bust through the gates and come for me, tear me apart limb from limb, munching on my flesh like jerky to dogs. I'm running out of ideas of what to do and I'm really starting to feel the pressure. I know you've always told me to never take shit from nobody, never to let anyone tell you what you can't/shouldn't write about. I should write what flows through me, whatever the fuck it may be. You always had the best advice, maybe not the smartest or the most clear, but definitely the best.
I was fine with it, it was a stupid fucking move and selfish as all hell, but I was fine with it. Unlike everyone else completely shocked and confused, I knew. Working aside you for all those years, I should know. You had been playing with the fucking idea of doing it for years, Ralph knew it and I knew it. Hell you always told him to watch over Amita, Juan and I after you were gone. But I just think any of us knew how soon it really was. You fucking bastard. It wasn't fair, I wasn't ready and you just go and leave like that. This final lesson of yours fucking sucks, it's too goddamn hard and we both know I'm not smart enough for this... you always said to stop saying that, I was a genius compared to most and that if I wasn't, you wouldn't have picked me. I just feel like your voice in my head is fading, how matter how hard I try to tie it down, it seems to always be pulling away. I'm scared. I'm scared shitless that I won't have my teacher as my voice as reason (well as reasonable as you ever were) anymore. What the fuck am I suppose to do?! I don't know what stories to write, what leads to follow! You fucking left me in the goddamn dark forest without as much as a flashlight or a goddamn lighter to fucking see with! Goddamn bastard. I miss you too damn much not to be pissed off at you.
I'll try damn it, you can't ask anymore than that.
Signed,
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