I want to be able to write like I used to – with careless abandon. These days it is like pulling teeth.
I’ve been working harder then I should. I’ve been working until my eyes burn and I cannot see straight. Until my body stops moving properly and goes numb in places.
I work until I want to cry but cannot because I have so much I need to get done. And that’s the point: I work so I don’t have to feel.
But night falls and even I cannot fill every single moment with movement that obscures my absolute reality: I am so fucking lonely.
But you would not know it. No, people do not seem aware because I smile and I laugh and I am polite and ask the right questions whilst waiting for the answers. And then I disappear back to my shop and work until I forget that another way to live exists.
I forget what it feels like to be in love and have built walls so high that any man who attempts to climb them will surely fall. Walls so high that I cannot see the bottom when I look down.
But I don’t have time to look – I just keep working.