Oh Lord, I'm bored. Sad and bored. It's like my big black dog is biting, biting, chewing off my life until I'm just a puff of air, wafting around the world unnoticed.
I don't want to be a puff, but rather a long, deep breath. Pure, clean air which will blow away any fog, drive away the clouds and give others joy.
Joy? That word seems new to me. What is joy? Tell me, I desperately want to feel it again.
All things are new, I'm curious, I look at everything with a questioning face. Most things just are, and some things seem out of place. Me, for example.
Wandering around without a clue, dishevelled and alone. When I speak, no one listens. When I listen, I can't hear.
When I retreat, I can't feel. When I can't feel, I can't feel pain.
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