Did the captain of the Titanic cry?
music: norah jones - wake me up
Typing. Writing. Crying. Hoping to rid myself of all remaining traces. Furious typing. Furious backspacing right here in this blog space. But I couldn't bring myself to hit the publish button. I still can't quite stomach the idea of starring in my own script. Each time I think that the last threads have been purged, they escape from the silent build-up.
I spend my days running in my head. Away from you, towards you. I feel like an advocate of a cause I am not sure about. I've long stopped talking to myself. I can't decide between living with an empty soul of grief, or a grieving heart. I'm sitting on a fence where the land is barren on both sides.
I go through daily motions, I smile, I laugh. And I really think I am okay. But once in awhile, the other me breaks through the facade, into the limelight. It was always happier as the star.
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