The emptiness I feel is robbing me of the right words to say.
It’s strange that I’ve been feeling this way. I was always certain of my emotions; they would always be of the extremes and are not impossible to determine; I would either be on a low or on a high, but scarcely in between. The middle one is almost trivial to me; it is something I rarely encounter and I honestly don’t know how I am going to handle it.
Maybe it’s the sudden change in my sleeping patterns or gulping way too much coffee that overwhelmed my senses, fatiguing and nearly shutting them down. But whatever the reason may be, the sobriety is making me uncomfortable. I am always an emotional one, a borderline dramatic human being. And not knowing what to feel feels like a stranger is trapped inside my body.
I am guilty, nonetheless, of wanting to be in this state for so long; feeling too much can be exhausting at times and it appears to me that people who have zero feelings thrive better in this cruel world. But I’d rather have the tears overflow, the loneliness cut through my throat, the laughter shake my bones, and the joy warm my soul than live like a robot, acting in programmed automaticity and in the absence of emotions.
Originally posted at http://www.teckler.com/en/Irenewrites/Who-Am-I-A-165553