Breaking his silence

(or, on the road to it, anyway.)

I haven’t done this in a while, so my skills are a bit rusty. And by “a bit,” I really mean “a lot.” I’ve been ridiculously preoccupied these past couple of months, and haven’t been able to get myself to sit down and string a couple of (decent) sentences together. It’s strange, this used to be so easy to do, and after this hiatus, my head is beginning to pound as I begin to write. It seems like so much work, and almost seems pointless.

Almost.

For someone who hasn’t ever had anyone close-close to talk to, a space like this to scream—even if it just masks the loneliness momentarily–provides much-needed relief. Hard as it may seem to write this evening, I’m pushing myself to do so. To sort of, you know, reacquaint myself with this space; because sometimes, I get the impression it’s all I have.

My space.

No external stimuli; be it fun, pleasure, fear, heartache… . Nothing.

Just me, my thoughts.

Stay tuned.

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