I want to talk but I don't; I want to write but I don't. It could be that I've lost the skill to express myself and therefore have no desire to do so. But what's there to be said?
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Reflecting on recent days, I've been somewhat happy, content with what I've got and how life is going. Stressed out for sure, putting off my research for my dissertation. But... How do I put it... It is a kind of empty satisfaction.
When I smile, I am ever so conscious of the wall my new found happiness is building around my heart. There is no door in the wall, nor is there a hole. It won't even open up to me. Sigh. This is the cause of the OT that my brain has been clocking in.
Me. Myself, and I. It is a lonely place, but we wouldn't have it any other way. I'm sure it hurts, I'm sure it does, but what can I do if I don't feel it?
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