fair the well
I’ve noticed I tend to shy away from writing when I’m feeling depressed. Though my emotions, when canvassed, generally seem to be languid, I usually try to avoid pervading them directly amidst the strongest emoting periods. Despite my want to express everything I am feeling at any given moment, I’ve come upon the realization that reliving these feelings over and over again in my head is something I’d rather not do. So I create this image of how I feel. Or felt. I note my thoughts. I abbreviate my pain. I lengthen my love. I take my cues from the life that I’ve lived. Not the one I’ve created. I’ve become victim of my own menagerie.
Maybe I should lay off the Rilke for a while?
Maybe I should lay off the Rilke for a while?