Lilielo-Lawliet

my other cat. i'm really sick of living. i really don't know what to do. i feel sick all the time. i'm always tired. my stomach and bones and muscles and head hurt all the time. i have such bad dreams. i can't enjoy anything anymore. everything good just makes me feel worse about myself. i hate everything i create. i'm ashamed of how terrible it is. people make such amazing things and they just make me feel worthless. i don't know what's wrong with me. i don't understand why i can't do better. my best is never good enough. i don't understand how other people manage to be happy. i've hated life for so long i just don't think it's possible f

only one left now. the oldest. seems pretty likely all 3 will be dead by the end of the year. the emergency vet couldn't do anything. so i wish that we hadn't done anything so he could at least die in his home with us around. it's not fair that the last hour of his life was being dragged out from under the bed and put in a cage and then dying in a strange place without any of us with him. but then we would have had to wonder if had we taken him would he have survived. suppose you can't expect the creatures you love dying to have any kind of upside or way to make things right. it's a bit like schrodinger's cat. i know that he's wrapped in a

just like all the rest