Dear Self,

Tonight, right now at 6:17 p.m., you are feeling sad.

It is just like what you were feeling 12 hours earlier, 6:17 a.m. somewhere in slumber-land.

It is tiring to be you these past few days. These past few days, it is difficult enough to have you eat a proper lunch — much even a proper dinner. All day you think about the things that evidently tire you, and then you find yourself already in bed ready to sleep, with nothing much accomplished (and you want to cry, but you won’t).

In these difficult times, there is no one to turn to but yourself. When you do turn to yourself, you feel trapped and empty — actually, more trapped and emptier than you already am — because honestly, what help can a lonely, tired person offer?

I am writing to you while I repose towards home, wanting as much sleep that you will never even get anyway. The moon, I could see, is crescent, while its bigger fragment is obscured, nothing but a weak white shadow in plain sight.

That is you.

You are slowly turning into nothing but a shadow of your own self. That is, if you allow yourself to be plagued by this unnecessary sadness.

So, self:

Please don’t be sad anymore. Please.