. . .

i hate it when there is a block. regardless if it's self-imposed by not processing or if it's legitimately unable to be articulated, i hate it. it's been too long since i last wrote, so much life has passed by, so many ideas simultaneously slamming into the forefront of my mind that i can't get a sentence in edgewise.
too many people talking, too many thoughts converging. . .
i sit among the empty thoughts and am pummeled by the ones that don't have the audacity to stand up and present themselves.
it's chaos at its apex, it's maddening at times. . .
i'm exhausted by the interminable questions, the unquieted fears, the unimaginable pain. . .the roar of my mind is deafening.
i laugh at who i think i've become, so quick to judge others, to ridicule myself. . .
another cycle begins. . .another question surfaces. . .once more the noise crescendos, drowning out all reason and once again solitude eludes me.