My name is Four,” I say. “Call me ‘Stiff’ again and you and I will have a problem.

I have a scar - a faint gouge in my knee from when I fell down on the sidewalk as a child. It's always seemed stupid to me that none of the pain I've experienced has left a visible mark; sometimes, without a way to prove it to myself, I began to doubt that I had lived through it at all, with the memories becoming hazy over time. I want to have some kind of reminder that while wounds heal, they don't disappear forever - I carry them everywhere, always, and that is the way of things, the way of scars.

It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand? (...) But please, when you see an opportunity...ruin them

In the days that follow, it's movement, not stillness, that helps to keep the grief at bay.

All I can do is stand still- I feel like if I just stand still, I can stop it from being true, I can pretend that everything is all right.

I would like to experience this 'date' phenomenon.