(no subject)
Six months gone. I'm standing absolutely still at the starting line. I'm confused and more than a little uncomfortable... and I simply dont know how to channel it. I've learned that walking on eggshells is an art. I have very little talent for it. I miss the days when something upset me, and I'd scream and writhe and take the fucking house down with me. These days are quiet, still, and vaguely something more sinister...