Somehow, this isn't my version of falling apart, nor is it an indication of forward motion. It may be limbo, for all I know. But then again, who does?

I don't know why I do the things I do, why I feel the way I feel, and why I ask the questions that I do. Words have immense impact on me, yet they manage to convey the sense that they're mere utterances of the vocal cords, apparent intent at times tangential to the purported aim. I'm no exception, so who's to judge my words?

I'm so sorry...

I'm frozen in something that I guess I don't really understand. I'm too tired. Definitions blur when one gets to this point.

I'm going back.




Signing off,

Whispered Screams