I can pen the most lurid descriptions of things. Setting the reader right in the middle of that shit. So, to speak and frankly as I had stated many times before, I wouldn't have it any other way. Yet, when I am sitting in and having a fucking touchy-feely moment with a state trained shrink and he asks to describe how I feel inside, I am at a loss for words.
Now, don't get me wrong. I try. I really do. Yet, they come out as a juxtaposition of indecipherable crap which usually ends with me smiling and stating, "I'm okay."
I am not okay. For years, inside has been a swirling turmoil of hate, shame, regret, confusion, loss, and self-loathing wrapped in a thick layer of utter sadness. There. That does it. In a nutshell. I know, I know..."Well, that is how every one feels once in a while. You simply have to deal with it." Well, first of all, fuck you and secondly, it isn't once in a while - it is continuous. Nonstop. Unrelenting. Consuming. I am trying to get you to understand with simple one word examples, but someone of your calibre will never understand. I mean, how could you? How could you grasp the constant coldness inside? The vacuum of feelings? The continuous wanting of ending this mortal coil?
Well, anyway, I will remain here in Tucson for a few more months saving my pennies and then continue on to Puerto Rico in September as planned. If I can hang on that long....