Lights On, Noone's Home

Been here before couldn't say I liked it
Do I start writing all this down?
Just let me plug you into my world
Can't you help me be uncrazy?
Metallica- The Unnamed Feeling


ScoMan left a few days ago now and Matt wasn't interested in taking over. I've been empty.

Uninspired. Unmotivated. Unwilling to do anything outside of what is absolutely necessary to ensure the surival of my being and my job. I force a smile. I'm glad I have my masks.

Perhaps it's my time to shuffle off this mortal coil, and whilst it is honorable for the Captain to go down with the ship, there seems to be some difference of opinion as to who exactly that is.

I look forward to going to bed. And when I'm there, I don't want to leave. Why is it we always seek out the comfort of our beds when we're down, but don't appreciate it when we're not? No matter what you told me now, I would feel nothing.

Perhaps one of Georgia's reaper friends popped my soul out well before my time, and all that's left for me to do is spiral towards my violent, untimely demise.

I've stumbled through every conversation I've had over the last few days, just doing enough to avoid being asked "What's wrong?". I hate that question. I've done everything I can over the last few years to avoid it. What's wrong? I'm dead inside.

Perhaps it's just been a long week, and resting ScoMan and Matt over the long weekend will make one of them ready to control this vessel again. I think that's the most likely scenario.