If I just keep working, keep yearning, keep striving. Maybe it will stop. If I can pour all of my waking attention into this maybe I can forget. I think have to move to another country, change my name, learn a new language and then sustain a very precise head injury. I'm scared I'll never recover. I feel like I've become something other, a mirror with no reflection. On the other side of the looking glass, transforming everything into work. The happiest place I keep the memories of the people I loved is in food. I carry them in the recipes they shared with me. For I am a comfort eater. For you it seems there is no amount of work or food that I can eat. Just grief. We don't have any shared recipe or warm memory, freshly baked bun. I don't even have an oven. Normally I would say it will be alright, but this time I feel ill never be the same again. I am changed and there will forever be gap, a space I knew, a reflection from which I feel forever estranged.... I got a bit lost and confused, lost the thread of this telegram article..now Im torn between a metaphor about our secret self and the two sides to every coin. Somehow I wanted to end it on, ...my claude bot is calling, knocking me out of the flow....that if I want to remember you all I need to do is remember myself and ask is it L or Y?