I am tired tonight. I'm gonna talk about it. What am I goin' to say. Catty is the Silent Partner. Can you even see it? I don't live alone. I live inside my head. It is all I have that has any value to me. i THINK TO MYSELF SILENTLY. i SPEAK WITH MY HANDS. i ONLY DO IT FOR LOVE'S SAKE. It is all I ever do it for. For love's sake. My sister knows. She knows me.. She knows I don't love her. She knows I don't love anyone. I please myself. I go where I want to go. It worries my sister, but she knows... She loves me. I don't know why.. I don't love myself. I love people who are loved.. But they don't know me like my sister.. I don't love her.. I try.... Maybe I love her so much that I don't care anymore about why she loves me. She feels more pain about me than I do for myself. That's why I don't understand her. She does it all by herself it seems. I let her do it for her sake. It pleases her. She says it's for loves sake, but I know better.. It's for her sake. We share life together, or should I call it death... I can't escape her... She won't let me. She holds to me so tightly that I want to leave for a long time... I'm not lonely.. I never feel alone.. And it's not because I have or have a need for friends. I don't need friends. I don't need love. I don't need my sister. She needs me. I give her the strength which I do not have to carry on. She nurses that strength which I do not have.. That's the only thing she doesn't know about me. I'm not as strong as she is... She thinks I'm stronger, but I know she's just fooling herself. She's always failing herself... I wish I had the strength to do that. Every time I see her, she looks so pathetic about me.. I don't know why. She knows me. She knows I don't have feelings like she does. I feel for her, but that's 'cause she wants me to. She never really thinks of me. She's too wrapped up in proving to herself that she really does love me. I really don't know her enough to know whether she really truly loves me at all or not. She really seems afraid to face it that she just doesn't love me. I know her. She knows me... The only thing we see is knowing that we don't love me and we spend all our time passionately proving it to each other. The neighbors don't visit. We live alone proving it to ourselves. She knows I know that she doesn't love me. That's why I go out at night.. I can never figure out why I want to go out or why I want to stay in and prove it with her.. It really doesn't matter to me. It's something we both recognize, but it breaks her heart to say it. I used to think that she loved me. I think I was fooling myself then. Then she began to over do it and I realized the sad, painful truth. I always thought that 'cause she was my older sister, she loved me naturally, but I found out wrong. The only thing we have is pain, and expressing it to each other. I don't mind the expressing. But it bothers me just the same... I suppose you could say that I am a burden to her. She is a burden to me.. That's why I go out. It's good to go out where people don't feel like they owe it to you to love you. I don't think I like love. It is funny that when you love someone, you don't love them, but we are a startling example of this fact. Maybe I do love her. I just don't like all the emotion about my pain so I don't feel it. She makes me realize that I'm in pain.. She keeps trying to convince me of it and she tries so hard to convince me that the only thing I end up believing is that she's got my pain more than I do. I like that. When Perley came into my life, I loved her like no other. It hurt Sip, but she saw it and understood like a sister. She, Perley, was so beautiful that I couldn't resist putting my head on her hand and falling asleep. I would never find such peace with Sip. There is never an end to Sip and me. Perley I can do without. Perley watches Sip and I. She knows that I will never be at peace with her so Perley thinks I love her more. It Never shows. Perley feels just as guilty as Sip about me, but doesn't love me as much. That's why I was able to sleep on her hand. Beauty I love.. I do not love Sip and I do not love myself. I am not beautiful in my eyes or anyone else's.. Sip is beautiful. In fact she's prettier than Perley, but with Perley I like what I see. With Sip, I don't like what I see. I see me in Sip. I don't like seeing me. I am not pretty to look at when I am seeing myself in Sip. Sip and I are not pretty. Sip is pretty. I drink sometimes. Sometimes I drink until I'm gone. It is not because I like alcohol. It is because I don't. It is because I don't care at all when I'm away from Sip. She tells me not to drink. Then I do. It's not because I don't love her. It's 'cause I do. Sometimes I want to forget that I'm alive. I don't like life... I don't like people. I like Sip. She knows I don't like life. She knows I don't like people. She knows I don't like being alive. She knows that the only reason I stay alive is to please her. I always please her; even when I don't. We know this. She worries about me so much that she can't figure out whether she likes what I do or not. She worries so much about me and us that I don't have to. She can say stuff with words that I never would have thought about us. I don't think about us. She does. If I thought about us myself I think I would die of suffocation. I almost die of suffocation when I'm with Sip. That's the only time I openly think about us; when we're together. When I drink, I'm thinking about us silently and every time I take a sip, I think of her. I love her when I drink. In fact I love her or am able to love her more when I drink than at any other time. My friends think I drink for fun. I think Sip knows better. Sip and I never have fun. We suffer together and suffer with each other. I guess it sounds strange, but that is when I have the most fun; when I'm suffering. You know, God didn't create love to be fun. Perley might think so. God created love to be a suffering kind. The strongest love must be the one you don't love 'cause then you suffer for what you do not have and that's the love you never had and will never get enough of. When I went blind I knew I deserved it. I knew I'd never see Sip love me again. I whined. Now I can't hear her love or see her love. She loves me more than I love myself. I think I love her more than she wants to admit. We suffer together. We suffer with each other. We make other people suffer. Suffering is fun. She enjoys suffering more than I do. That's what makes her suffer. I shrug it off for loves sake. She doesn't like that when I do and doesn't believe it. She's right. I'm unbelievable. We are unbelievable to each other but we believe it. I can hear the wheels of the factory. It is a quiet hum. It comforts me. I don't really know why 'cause it's the very thing that I am abused for at work. Feed the machine every day. I do and I still love the hum. Sip hates it. She blames the sound that I love.. She thinks it paradoxical that I should love something that brings everyone such suffering. She wants to ignore the fact that she and I suffer for one another and call it love. You always love your tormentors more than you hate them. You hate what they do to you, but you love them doing it. If someone else did the same things you'd hate them, but you love that special one doing the very same things you would hate another to do to you. I like to talk to myself. I like to complain. I like to describe to myself the objects in my possession. I like the feel of things. The only thing I miss about my eyes is seeing Sips loving pitiful eyes. Sip pities me. Everybody pities me. I'm nothing but pitied. Don't know what else there is. Sip never talks for me. She respects me too much. No one could speak me better, but she knows that if I can't say it myself it won't be said. I don't speak for Sip. Sip can speak for herself. When I was in the house just before walking out on the bridge and falling to my end, I felt the water coming in as it flooded the house and was amused by it. Didn't scare me a bit. Nothing does scare me. I worry about not being scared and it shows as fear.. Scared of not being scared. When there is no further fall to take everything looks good to you; even death. Catty don't cry. Sip needs to.