Stormy

The dark clouds are beginning to gather. I was fine all day and now I'm not. It's easy to pretend I don't care when I'm surrounded by people and have things to focus on. Like how much beading is too much and whether or not the extra crinoline will fit down the aisle. The hard part late is at night when it's quiet and there's nobody left in the Universe so that I am forced to listen to the voices in my head. The ones that tell me I'm supposed to be alone. The ones reminding me that the moments of human contact are illusory and fleeting. The ones that jeer at the happy thoughts cowering and hiding from the leaded skies of despair.

Disappointment. I don't deal well with that emotion. And I'm wondering if it's just easier to never let anyone in so that I don't ever have to feel this way again. All of the happiness is transient but this thing seems to magnify itself out of all reasonable proportion and then it goes on and on forever. I don't want any more of this roller coaster. The highs of hope and depths of disappointment. I just want a flat line. No happy, no sad, just an eternity of meaningless solitude on this planet until that is over too.

If only self-esteem was rational. Then I could conduct a logic exercise and be done with all the garbage. Instead I'm left with the voices inside and the dark clouds gathering overhead.