it's 4:05 am. twins are stomping above. they started at 3:45. i woke up mad because someone took my mailbox and my mail is missing. i feel like it's a strong message. i should get out of there. it's just a dusty museum of my past self anyway. i could get rid of everything. the waste would end, the weight would be gone. it was a temporary space. it contains traumatic memory. i pray that i can let it go, and soon. it's 4:17. the twins are banging. i know, trauma goes with us. we need to lighten the load as we go.