I am wordless. My words are gone. I don't know how it happened, but, somehow, the steady stream of words I believe I had come to take for granted has now completely dried up. Maybe it is some sort of karma for being such a coward, hiding away and putting up a mask of vagueness and words, and pretending that with each word the intensity of the emotion shied away. Yet, the emotions linger, their intensity, their philosophy, so much so that sometimes I cannot breathe for it.

I could tell myself over and over agian that they mean nothing, but once again I would be telling vicious, vicious lies to myself. It is one thing to lie to others when they are oh-so-clueless, but another thing entirely to lie to yourself, and feel not only the guilt but the harsh scrutinization of someone who knows that the other party is lying.

But there are no words, so the emotions linger. They linger and linger, and they are suffocating - and, in return, suffocating me. There is no where for them to go, and nowhere for me to hde. They are inside me, and there is nothing I can do to be rid of them. Writing these emotions out in words is a relief - it can calm the intensity and soothe the emotions, instead of having them run rampant through my head. I can't sleep, I can't eat.

But, most of all, I cannot write. And that, I believe, is the most important of the three.