moving the Erin letters to Dead End Shrine Online

writing/letters_to_morgan/20191223.html

@@ -31,7 +31,7 @@
 		<p>maybe my head has been held under the water for so long that i've had to invent other selves to describe my sorry states. to give myself license to claim some semblance of normalcy when nothing improves.</p>
 		<p>what separates me, mars, from the others, really? a predisposition to waifuism? pervasive sadness? a fixation on past lives? willingness to be the public spokesperson for whatever the hell's going on in <del>our</del> <em>my</em> brain?</p>
 		<p>or maybe just the public punching bag for when something goes wrong.</p>
-		<p>and if i'm &quot;one&quot;, if i'm just larping, then how do i explain the moments where i feel like my body isn't quite my own? not in the sense of <a href="https://mayvaneday.org/blog/2019/11/possession.html">parental possession</a>- that's nearly omnipresent- but that it moves of its own accord, doing and saying things i would never do if i were fully lucid and in control of the front? the sudden but consistent shifts in verbiage and opinions that correspond to a specific mood change?</p>
+		<p>and if i'm &quot;one&quot;, if i'm just larping, then how do i explain the moments where i feel like my body isn't quite my own? not in the sense of <a href="https://mayvaneday.org/blog/2019/11/possession.html">parental possession</a> - that's nearly omnipresent - but that it moves of its own accord, doing and saying things i would never do if i were fully lucid and in control of the front? the sudden but consistent shifts in verbiage and opinions that correspond to a specific mood change?</p>
 		<p>have i forced my autistic self to mask for the benefit of neurotypical society for so long that i've forgotten how to take it off in private?</p>
 		<p>or maybe it's the stress of the job cramming us all together in a sandwich compactor, and none of us have room to breathe.</p>
 		<p>just remember to breathe, morgan. in, out. in, out. that's how you float.</p>