How do you tell someone that you no longer exist? I ask for a friend, myself that is, for we both can’t feel the resemblance of an I or me. There is no longer an entity to refer to as myself. There are only others, bits of fluff shifted across space and time. I’m not falling apart, for you must be reminded there is no longer an I here.
They have been trying to find one. Their words could not draw one out, nor when their bones tried to crack the ghost of what was once mine. My dearest Indi could never find me, not now, not when I was no longer to be found.
There are two ways to see stardust: the way is found in its compound. And when the stardust finally collected itself in one part of the dingy complex, there was no hope fore become me again. Whatever that was.