A question for all who choose to read it...

Maybe its just my natural response to block out my feelings as of yet, and I know for certain that it is, but aside from the occasional twang pulling at me, and of course the deep dark hollow thing that seems to have left me feeling a bit empty, it doesn't hurt so much anymore. I do not cry now as if everything within me was worth so little that i wish only for all my internal organs and innards to be crushed by my massive sobs... In fact, i no longer cry at all. I wish no longer for my life to revert to its colorless dull pain, for now that i have suppressed my heart as people will when they find themselves in a predicament as I have so cruelly awaken to, to rid themselves of the memory, they wish for numbness so that they may not feel the pain residing within them. And in this state they reach a sort of perscribed happiness. And though it is fake and plastic, and quite over exagerated, they find themselves to be in a certain type of euphoria simply because they have learned to mask, even to themselves, the fact that they care, so that at one point in their life, they may forget it and truely and wholy be rid of their affliction. Though it happens slower, but with less pain. I have found but one answer. One steady and true way to achieve this. - Practice - As cruel and moronic as this sounds, the more often you are deeply hurt, the faster and harder you fall to either one extreme side of the spectrum or the other. And after going through times of cruel, cheerless pain, the mind creates a barrier to it. And the more the barrier is needed, the more it is refined - perfected. But when it goes out of use for quite some time, say after a period of intense or prolonged happiness, it begins to crumble and disinigrate as a bridge will do in time if ill-kept. So the question is: Would you rather live a life where you can feel nothing? or are you more inclined to feel the pain and the happiness together, even if the one isn't quite so balanced as the other? Written April 18th, 2002 © on Apr 17 2002 05:00 PM PST   10 • 0