I have been hiding the fact that my father is dead. I have hid this from myself.
I am angry at him.
But then again I am glad he didn't know me. I have proven myself to be a profound disappointment in all supposedly significant venues. Life, love, career--all a failure.
It's convenient that I don't believe in a Heaven or Hell, or the pain would be a prolonged experience.
I'm pretty alone.
I'm pretty lonely.