(no subject)
I push the knot on my tie from left to right for maybe the thousandth time today and glace around my workspace. A book for pleasure. A book for gain. A stack of hot, sticky, paperwork. [EDIT, text removed] Empty ziplock that once housed various plant matter. Last night feels distant. A smear of colors. [EDIT, text removed] Reds and blues. I felt something last night; I’m sure I felt a lot of things. Maybe that statement isn’t right. I’m pretty sure I felt something. [EDIT, text removed] The idea of feeling has grown more and more abstract to me. [EDIT, text removed]
But last night, maybe I felt. Funny how quickly I felt it slide. It was almost a physical sensation. Not any one thing caused it. But it was there for a time. Burning.
Bright. Intense. And then it just sort of… slipped. Washed away. I felt myself empty. It wasn’t bad or painful or profound. [EDIT, text removed] It was dull. It drained out of me. Not even a taste of it left in my mouth. A smear of colors. Mostly reds and blues.
I miss having an office.
I fucking miss my kitchen.
[EDIT, text removed] And almost none of those people can relate to me. Or maybe it is that I’m unable to relate to them.
Everyone and everything feels distant. Abstracted. Removed. I interact. I’m social. And yet, it all seems removed.
I’ve felt real emotion before. Truly. But the idea of it seems smudged and the memory of it distant. I keep hearing over and over again that time heals all wounds, or variations there of, but I don’t feel that I’m wounded or broken. [EDIT, text removed] I think that this is, at base, my nature. [EDIT, text removed] I am cold. I am detached. I am uncaring. [EDIT, text removed] Historically speaking, I’m not prone to emotion. Historically speaking I don’t believe that any two people are capable of any kind of real connection. [EDIT, text removed] Historically speaking the distance between you and the person closest to you is infinite.
This is all irrelevant. [EDIT, text removed]
What I really want to do, is to tell a joke.
Here it goes:
Don Giovanni and Don Quixote walk into a bar. Don Giovanni orders a scotch and soda. Don Quixote remembers something so painful he falls shaking to the floor, then through the floor and into the earth. Don Quixote looks up at Don Giovanni, his vision blurred with the pain, but he doesn’t cry out for help.
They aren’t that close.
But last night, maybe I felt. Funny how quickly I felt it slide. It was almost a physical sensation. Not any one thing caused it. But it was there for a time. Burning.
Bright. Intense. And then it just sort of… slipped. Washed away. I felt myself empty. It wasn’t bad or painful or profound. [EDIT, text removed] It was dull. It drained out of me. Not even a taste of it left in my mouth. A smear of colors. Mostly reds and blues.
I miss having an office.
I fucking miss my kitchen.
[EDIT, text removed] And almost none of those people can relate to me. Or maybe it is that I’m unable to relate to them.
Everyone and everything feels distant. Abstracted. Removed. I interact. I’m social. And yet, it all seems removed.
I’ve felt real emotion before. Truly. But the idea of it seems smudged and the memory of it distant. I keep hearing over and over again that time heals all wounds, or variations there of, but I don’t feel that I’m wounded or broken. [EDIT, text removed] I think that this is, at base, my nature. [EDIT, text removed] I am cold. I am detached. I am uncaring. [EDIT, text removed] Historically speaking, I’m not prone to emotion. Historically speaking I don’t believe that any two people are capable of any kind of real connection. [EDIT, text removed] Historically speaking the distance between you and the person closest to you is infinite.
This is all irrelevant. [EDIT, text removed]
What I really want to do, is to tell a joke.
Here it goes:
Don Giovanni and Don Quixote walk into a bar. Don Giovanni orders a scotch and soda. Don Quixote remembers something so painful he falls shaking to the floor, then through the floor and into the earth. Don Quixote looks up at Don Giovanni, his vision blurred with the pain, but he doesn’t cry out for help.
They aren’t that close.