Have you ever given up on a dream?

It's the worst feeling in the world. You hear your heart crumble. You look at words, at music notes, at your own art, and you realize that it doesn't mean anything to you. They're just letters. Just symbols. Just scribbles.

That's what I had to do to survive. I had to look at my words, face my music, stare my sketches dead in the eyes... and then give up. Now, all my energy must be devoted to running and searching and hunting and eating and fighting. One day I will forget. I will no longer understand grammar or wordplay. Music will be beyond my comprehension. Creativity will elude me. For now, my lost arts plague me. They whine and scream, they plead with me not to abandon them, and yet I must. I have. I am consumed by a desire to forfeit all in order to continue to survive.

And for that, I will never live again.