Hypothetical-- Meloncholia and the Rough Patch

[autisticemue]

There's a ghost at the edge of my mind. It wails so soft, like whispers fading into wind. It asks me the hard questions I hate so dearly. Is this thing you savor growing tired? Is it sulking to its grave? This ghost drones on about its companion that could fall into its lap at any moment. My head is weary and my heart is heavy tonight. Let

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Aftermath: Unchanged, But Disgusted

[autisticemue]

Why do i bother to confide in you--this unresponsive, empty vessel. Am i afraid to confide in any one else, lest they see into me and i expose myself as something delicate as human. What melodrama I have composed to the melody of inner conflict...Worthless...