Flashback: June 25, 2001

the feeling that time passes through one's body
that there is nothing one can do
that one's consciousness is but an error
  on the face of an indifferently silent universe
that one hangs on life because
  even this miserable existence is better than
  nothing
  the silence
that there is 
  no retribution
  no solace
  no reason
  no explanation for what has happened 
that there is nothing/nobody you can get angry with
along with there is nothing/nobody you can thank to
  for one's pain and hope alike
that one had no previous lives
  and is going to have no afterlife
that this is it, the only life one has
is an overwhelming burden on one's heart
  combined with one's regrets
the only things one can truly own 
  apart from one's memories