I'm starting to feel it again. This time I submit willingly to let it swallow me.

But I don't really feel it. I'm too numb to feel it. I'm just aware of its presence, the black hole, the abyss. There's no tension or anxiety anymore with it. I've done everything I want to, I don't need to prove anything. There isn't anything new that could present itself that would make me say, yes, I want to stay to do that. Ain't gettin' any younger either, hon.

My entire past looms and overwhelms; all the people I've met, all the people who have been part of my life and no longer are. Looking back, I could have just assumed from the start that their role in my life would be temporary. And yes, the people in my life now, I met them and became friends knowing they were, one way or another, temporary. That's why I haven't gotten too close to any of them.

But the people from before I realized this, I let myself love them. I let them be special. So I look back with nostalgia and some nice sadness. It feels like anything real about me is in my past. But my entire past was unreal as it happened. What does that say about my present? Nothing, just that I'm par for the course. Wunderbar.

Bejeebus, how many times have I written something like this before? This sounds like one of my "old journal" entries, the kind that was written to be completely private. It may be time to start publishing this weblog again. Sooner than I thought.

current soundtrack: Radiohead - "OK Computer"