Active, an experiment underway. I am considering that everything, at most is an experiment and so scientific procedures are engrained. I am not in control of anything, maybe besides my attitude. The world is not pushing and pulling me along the tides of daily life–I am an active participant.

Variables are present and a hypothesis is just that, a hypothesis. Not fact or fiction and based on observations, in response to a question.

Open. The sign at my [metaphorical] door reads. Ready for new ideas, ways of being, and methods of execution. I am both the master and well… you know the rest. I stand before the audience in protective gear; In front, a mirror, ready and armed with a slew of chemicals and a flexible modus operandi. No instructions at hand, the greatest performance, LIVE.

I forgot how it felt to be a grenade. The word I am looking for is angry, not over contextualized into irritability or hate but at its raw state. I still reference the Feelings Wheel, puzzle pieces that pinpoint the exact emotion I am trying to describe. The colors help. In the time this habit has formed, I realize what I seek are “bigger” words to describe 6 basic emotions: anger, sadness, surprise, love, joy, and fear. I know better, keep it simple. Memorize the small handful and go from there; I feel _______. Rinse and repeat, pick from the six.

Putting emotions into words is hard to grasp. I lean apathetic, expressionless. It takes a while for what I see to reach the part of my brain that understands how to express how I feel. I tend to experiment with the right words and none of them fit. So… I name non-emotions. I feel scared, which is not an emotion. The same fear isn’t there when I toss around symbols, <3 for my love.

Close. “How do you feel?” There goes my heart, my mind is racing. Ok. Okay. You got this! How do I feel, how-do-I-feel. Maybe if I say it slower an answer will materialize. H-how do I answer this: ‘Great’, that’s a good choice, but do I feel great? ‘What does that even mean?’ Okay, ok, Oh-kay, the clock is ticking. I feel something; I must feel something, deep down. Let’s look for it… ‘How do you feel?’ Hungry? I just ate, also not an emotion. Tired, also not an emotion. Okay so a lot of what I feel, are not “emotions”.

“I am great.” That’s not a lie and I feel perplexed. I mean surprised, there’s room to learn.

Life is beautiful. I want to share the little gleaming moments with you as someone who sees through. And with each passing day, it gets easier to let go of the need to have you at my side. “There’s a near copy of them in every town,” a voice whispers. It’s your nearness I haven’t experienced, so how would I miss a sensation I have not felt? Sweet conversations are what we were. But as you’d said, we would sooner than later run in silence. I deserve more for myself.

Perhaps quality needs time to reach the now. We’ll be strangers again with your faded voice and blurred face. And only the integrated parts of you remain in me.

When my eyes shut, I hear your voice guiding me into the abyss. Our hands are outstretched in a space they’ll never meet.

You live in my imagination with no immediate importance. And I write not to soothe my soul but as form. My words are not of endearment, especially here, but of disappointment.

If you knew me well, you’d know my gaze does the talking.

“I love you,” he said.
Clearly not enough, when he broke her heart into a million pieces.
The man adds, “I haven’t got around to it.”

And you wonder why she was confused, “I love you?” she replied.

In that instant she heard her own words.

It is nearing winter, the same months, when all there is another year ahead and remanences of what was. A passing of time with enough distance to quell the depth of my soul. The surface tension oscillates in clutch between relax and run. A slow drown into silence of many last nights and last words.

Forever, by the light.

External stimuli is a guide, a tool to facilitate the path of free will.

Accept that life will be unfair. If you don’t know this already then here it is…

You are your worst enemy… and self-discovery is a personal journey. Free from the illusion of choice simply just to be. We all are, as we are. You have to do things… yourself because no one else will.

I am drawn to mass networks that converge. Conscious or not, humans are drawn to connection. Unless there is an internal disturbance, a darkness.

It’s as if I am destined for a congealed singularity, an idea that makes sense of existential meaning. I think every attempt I’ve made to diverge only draws me closer to a center.