Distilling Mind

Not much has been said here in some time. It's making me feel congested. The ideas are all there and formed in my head, but the transition from thought to paper seems exhausting. Almost to far to travel. I'd like to share words about my urges to relapse into a place I've tried to keep from. Thoughts of my distaste in regards to my current place. Words, just words.

Its easier to keep my mind boxed up than it is to mourn myself. The worst part would be over quickly. But at least with these thoughts kept safe, all they can do is rattle the cage. Under lock and key, theres no possible way of escape. I doubt I'm prepared for a disaster of that scale. Just keeping them safe is hard enough. Thoughts, just thoughts.

The response time, for the emotional disaster, my melt down. What is a reasonable time frame for response. And who would respond. If all of these tormenting ideas have been kept so neatly boxed for so long, who's to know anything changed. Who will recognize what I'm wearing on my sleeve. Who has the sort of attention span. People, just people.

Bottoms up. Here's to life.