I was sad for a while. But then it stopped. It all stopped and now only fleeting movements within. Nothing long term. Nothing I could really call a mood. They're all gone. Even boredom and angst, my old friends, are mere afterimages.

I keep reacting and watching myself react and think "I should feel sad, or happy or responsible" so I try to cover up feeling none of these things by miming a milder version of them. I have the training. You wouldn't know if I was acting happy or if my actions were happy.

But I don't like to be dishonest. I also don't like to offend. Try as I might I've just never encountered people who couldn't be offended by honest interaction. It's impossible. Tell someone you honestly dislike her cat, tell someone else he's an idiot for remaining in a relationship...somehow, somehow they don't take to it with great aplomb.

So I hide behind niceties. I keep my head down and try to get some work done. Just call me Sisyphus and if you hear me wheezing behind you do try to get out of the way of the boulder.

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I don't know where things are going right now. It's hard to keep from opening my eyes and recognizing something, likely a Big something, that I don't like in my life. The somethings are too numerous to mention, though they start and end with me. And in anycase enumerating them would involve naming names. Something I've learned better than to do.

My heart has never been especially reliable but these days it's really gone out on some kind of adventure and left me in the dust. I want to use the word "dreary" possibly because it's the most innacurate word I could use. I think "Life is dreaey." But it's really not. Or, it would feel the opposite of dreary if I could feel. Which of course means it can't feel dreary either. At least not to me.

It's just there. Like the mud on my windshield from the dirty wipers. Mud has its uses and lately it's been cloudy my view. Soon I'll get it washed off though, and I'll need a new simile.

It's like...it's like... It's like the meaty bits of me went off on a great holiday and the skin shell and the boring part of my brain normally reserved for tying my shoes and balancing my checkbook is holding down the fort. All of the fun parts and the crazy bits and even the unwashed hysteria I keep in a jar way in the back of the old soda crackers, long stale, they all skipped town.

There's so much space in here.