within

The problem is not environment. It is not the situation; it is me. But I can't distinguish between what is inherent and what can be unlearned. I find my dolor not replaced with courage but with apathy, a hostile though oddly motivating apathy. I once again continue not because I want to, but because I know not what else to do. Perhaps the faster I work, the quicker time will have seem to pass and things may once again become livable. What an outlook!

This mentality has obviously subverted my emotional capacities, which are too volatile to be relied on anyway. I now carry with me a numbness which takes in so little. Normally I feel (and not think) everything, but living my routine this other way around is more like going through the motions, collecting data and not really absorbing anything into my core. I don't know how anyone could function like this - everything is so dry. As dangerously unstable as my extremes are, they are my habit and this new sedated state feels equally unbearable, wherein I am just as upset as before except that instead of succumbing to it in spurts, it's now washed faintly over me, ever constant and inescapable. Constant. Inescapable. Constant.