I considered opening another blog, unknown and with no noticeable connections to me. I was going to do this because I feel like previous decisions were holding me down. The decisions in question have with making an extra effort to show the positive side of me more. Like any human being, I have in me a bright and a grey side. But, for the past few years, I have been happily bright most of the time. But, it had also to do with holding myself in check. And this included toning down my expressions of pain, longing, confusion, exhaustion, want, and joy.

In short, I resolved to cruise.

But, cruising, I've found out, takes much more effort in the long run. There's effort in reining either a shout, a cheer or a sob.

Once in a while during the past years, I allowed myself full expression; a bold statement of joy. Of course, I knew that in doing so, I was not only opening myself up to joy, but also exposing myself where I could be hurt most. It's a two-way avenue, always.

And I was hurt. And the pain, though dulled by time, continues to vex me. Phantoms.

Today, I choose not to cruise. And I will say:

I am exhausted. And I am angry. And I am exhausted with anger.
I feel helpless, like a person caught in a crossfire.
I am stuck in bed, wallowing in misery.
My blood runs slow, my steps are slower. And I hate how I am right now!
I keep saying tomorrow, I will shake myself free of this malaise.
Well, that's today now and still I'm here, unmoving.
I have two books on my bedside: Bram Stoker's Dracula (a reread); it spawned interest in The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. I bought it yesterday.

I go through my days fairly well -- I do the work, I enjoy the little things. But, I notice the difference in me when I trudge home. I know I shouldn't be that tired. To justify the feeling, I tell myself I'm not used to the schedule. But, I don't think it's that.

It's because I don't like myself now.
I don't like the phantoms that I won't set free. They're not even here of their own accord, I think. I think I've been keeping them close for some masochistic reason.

I know how to dispell this greyness. But, this is my color for now.

Tomorrow, I will throw it off.