the most skilled of expressionists, on occasion, don’t quite have the words to convey. Everyone’s telling me what to do, how to feel. But I feel nothing, I do not allow myself. And in the instances I become infected with emotion, I shut it out to the best of my ability. Is it okay to just sulk? I’ve been trying to conjure up just what it is I want, and trying to make sense of all this. I’m losing all I’ve ever known. Who’d of thought something so tumultuous, that brought so much turbulence, would be so hard to toss aside. I’m trying to let go of pain, beyond reasoning. Pain I try to act as though doesn’t exist. Once the barricade has been severed, I’m genuine to a fault. Yet when I speak, no one believes me. I need a ride back to the girl I feel I’ve lost for too long now. I’ve acted just as the enemy, which has filled me with such anguish. Just going through the motions, acting on vindiction, then the penance that soon follows. I cant let myself break, I need to pick up the pieces I thought had shattered completely. I am absolutely beside myself. Where do we go from here? I NEED to feel something, but something that doesn’t sear through the skin in the aftermath. Or sedate me.