(no subject)
I've felt the distinct lack of an urge to articulate anything, lately.
It's strange. There's so much I could talk about, but I feel like doing so would not only be exhausting, but minimize, somehow, the rather surreal feeling of these past few days. I'm not sure I want to define it. It's not the result of any one thing - I suppose the wake of one year and the empty slate of another is juxtaposing me a bit, and I'm left unable to do much else but think, think, think. It's had me walking around in a veritable daze.
I don't really mind it, per se - not being able to write or express these things in any particular way. I used to get frustrated when I couldn't, but now... I guess I've come to grips with the fact that some thoughts simply don't need words... don't require any extra incarnation. It would be a disservice to them. There are plenty, of course, that take on new life when I write. But some would only diminish.
...yeah.
I really, really want to play the piano right now. *eyes time and frowns*
It's strange. There's so much I could talk about, but I feel like doing so would not only be exhausting, but minimize, somehow, the rather surreal feeling of these past few days. I'm not sure I want to define it. It's not the result of any one thing - I suppose the wake of one year and the empty slate of another is juxtaposing me a bit, and I'm left unable to do much else but think, think, think. It's had me walking around in a veritable daze.
I don't really mind it, per se - not being able to write or express these things in any particular way. I used to get frustrated when I couldn't, but now... I guess I've come to grips with the fact that some thoughts simply don't need words... don't require any extra incarnation. It would be a disservice to them. There are plenty, of course, that take on new life when I write. But some would only diminish.
...yeah.
I really, really want to play the piano right now. *eyes time and frowns*