&c

I think that sometimes people notice that I may not be as emotionally open and that is probably true. What I have noticed though is that it is not merely because I reserve my emotions for myself and shy away from sharing it with others but also because the emotions themselves are unclear to me even. Is that strange? When we think about how we feel, our sensations, emotions, &c., these seem to be concrete things -- concrete being that they are rigid not material. And rigid being that they are defined and not ambiguous. I sometimes find myself confused trying to decipher them -- my own feelings. Why must I have to decipher them? It is common to have to decipher other people's emotions and feelings, but to have to realize my own seems like an unusual undertaking.

And yet even as I sit here, I can feel something within me but I do not know what it is. I want to let my fingers glide across the keyboard as if they were not on a keyboard but a ouija board, moving from letter to letter as if beyond my control, transcending the physical limitations of the biological, neurological, and electrical processes within myself and outside of myself that must ensue in order for the thoughts to become realized on the screen -- as thoughts become processed into neurons and neurons become processed as muscle contractions and muscle contractions become processed as typing and typing becomes processed as letters and letters become processed as words and back and forth and through and under and around and backwards -- the pathway is too controlled. I want to free myself from these processes because what I want to read may become filtered or dissipated or altered in some way without being conscious of it. I want to breathe onto the screen and purge directly from source to destination. The brightness of the screen blinds me and I find myself caged within these 10 x 13 square inches.

And now my hands are frozen yet my fingers are tingling with anticipation. They wait for their commands but there is none. Nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of silence.