I cannot speak here at length in honesty. I have once again started a private journal and there I am unleashing freely. Anything put here will be elusive, otherwise formal.
My mind descends sour stairs but its depths have been dulled by delusions. I am frustrated and trying to write my way out of it, but not here. I don't know why I bother to say so. Perhaps only to justify my worry that my efforts here will be meek and secondary, but then again, writing more in one form might just beget writing in all other forms. I find myself typing without saying anything, trying to remember what it is to trust myself enough to let the text flow freely. My hands are beginning to remember the motions but my brain still has much to catch up on.
I can feel my own mental apprehension and it is nauseating.
My mind descends sour stairs but its depths have been dulled by delusions. I am frustrated and trying to write my way out of it, but not here. I don't know why I bother to say so. Perhaps only to justify my worry that my efforts here will be meek and secondary, but then again, writing more in one form might just beget writing in all other forms. I find myself typing without saying anything, trying to remember what it is to trust myself enough to let the text flow freely. My hands are beginning to remember the motions but my brain still has much to catch up on.
I can feel my own mental apprehension and it is nauseating.
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