it's one of those nights again,
when the messy equilibrium
of feeling rears its head and
demands compensation for
the goodness i had so recently.
i guess i could discard
the convenient attachment
and simply blame my limbic
system for subjecting me to it,
but that's dis(honest) to my nature.
it's the worst kind: contemplative;
not grief, or [lone]liness, or any
other illness of the amygdala,
(the heart pumps blood, and
blood is not a medium of feeling).
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 5:31 AM UTC
it's one of those nights again,
when the messy equilibrium
of feeling rears its head and
demands compensation for
the goodness i had so recently.
i guess i could discard
the convenient attachment
and simply blame my limbic
system for subjecting me to it,
but that's dis(honest) to my nature.
it's the worst kind: contemplative;
not grief, or [lone]liness, or any
other illness of the amygdala,
(the heart pumps blood, and
blood is not a medium of feeling).
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