#thevesuvianman

I have substituted the agonizing scratching for a better method. The prior made my hands grow heavy with a disgusting substance that could possibly be contributed to my confusion unwell feeling (?) I often find I am bringing up an awful bile when I am near the black smoke. I have fought to stay away but I cannot help myself Aruvia, it's a beautiful picture. If only you could understand.

I will attempt to recount the morning but take note Aruvia, that I shudder to do so.

Although the mist seemed to clear, I asked myself why I wished for clear vision in the first place. The world was disgusting Aruvia, rotten. A glacier of rocks and pebbles. Nothing more. Insufferable. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes open, stand on two feet and withstand the awful ringing noise.

I felt like someone was calling to me beyond the searing pain. Calling my name.

Me. What is my name?

...

I will finish this later, Aruvia.

Coughing, sharp and brittle, was how my morning really began. I am a day more from yesterday Aruvia, and have toiled over this world I live in. If you ever demand my name again, I will write... something. I'll think of something. It will keep me calm.

No-one else lives here... but us. I will make this life worth living for you Aruvia, bothersome though it may be to question but I am fraught with unanswered askings. What belongs here? There's something deeply fractured... but what?

I am not quite sure why... bothersome... bothersome? Why is it?