Somehow with the writing of my blog on October 20th came an internal resolution to not return to my home. Everything is pain. Everyone is pain. I'm so broken I should be in a full body cast, and going to the place I left is like ripping off a huge scab and pouring on it the most irritating alcohol ever. There is fellowship in suffering.... but what if there is suffering in fellowship? What if fellowship IS the suffering? I guess if everything is suffering though, what does it really matter? Somewhere during all the madness I built an impenetrable bubble around me. Now I'm at the point where I've lost sight "me." Who am I? This person that desperately wants to love and be loved, yet as a result of life's recency, now feels that romance is dead and would sooner die than open up again... although closedness is a form of death in itself.
Posted on 11.11.2006 at 5:57 PM
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