[a good 30 seconds of dead silence] . .. ... [a sigh] [that noise where someone is about to talk but it's just a choked noise] ..... ... .. . I.....[no. nope] . . .. ... [a deep breath] [muffled background of Owen going oi, we're moving] [sighs out] Get yourself together, Oswald.
[tired and quiet. dead inside] Oswin Log. Day twenty something. I've become leader, and while I always fancied myself one, it's bittersweet. The married couple have flown the coop and it looks like I've become resident shepherd. [muses, but its halfhearted] Look at me, talking like one of them. [takes a breath] He better come back with or without. I hate doing things alone. I hate being alone. Here they all sleep, but I'm the only one awake. [yawns] I dreamed of them again. Loud and banging at the door. I don't know what door, but it felt hollow and cold. Tiny. Dark. Loud scratchy voice in my ear. Things I don't want to remember but I'm starting to remember. ... .. . The worst thing of being with myself is having those thoughts to myself. Where's that perfect world where I could just...drown everything away? Right, that world's gone now.
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Ⅶ. Tumba Entries
Ⅷ. Tumba Entries