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The last post I actually wrote on here was on the 4th. That thought occurred to me today….
I’m not interested in writing at the moment, I’m not really interested in anything. It’s like my get up and go, got up and went. There’s this ticking clock inside me but it’s stuck…. just ticking the same second over and over and over again. And because it’s stuck, so am I, and I see the gray. No, no, I feel the gray. I feel it’s swirls and tendrils, I feel it’s icy caress. But at the moment I don’t mind. When’s the gray gonna realise I’m not to bothered about the cold? Even though I know the gray means I’m gonna slip, I don’t care. Well I said that wrong to I guess…. it’s not I don’t care. It’s that I feel nothing. Nothing at all. Why is nothing provoking a reaction inside me? Usually there are so many different emotions running through me during the day, enough to make a “normal” person dizzy. But since I wrote that last poem…. Nothing. Not comfortable nor uncomfortable nothing…. just nothing. No feelings about anything. It’s not I’m not bothered, it’s not a numbness, a tinge a smudging of the corners…. It’s just a nothingness….