Broke

It wasn't a breakup, but it had the same feel. All of a sudden people were more feral; They cycloned around me but they weren't going to restore color into the world. I had to do that on my own. Slowly I picked the yellows and blues and reds throughout the graphite, making the world real again. I know how to do it now. I can do it again.

Breaks can traumatize; the only thing I've ever broken on my body was my foot. I'm not sure if my bones are stronger than normal or if I'm just more careful about being hurt; my guess is the latter. I've always had a good sense on when to stop exerting myself physically. I can't claim the same when it comes to mental and emotional exertion. I shove my soul out for people to do with as they will- and it's been the nature of people to snap it like they are dancing across rotting ice.

So I take a break from people, occasionally. I need time to heal, for my emotions to knit back together. When they knit with jagged edges the circuits cross; I start confusing one emotion for another. Love and fear become synonymous. Happiness and anger. My experiences from the past cross over into the present, and I confuse the two, mixing them into an unpleasant future. Fears can run thick in those futures that I create, running through them like a vein of arsenic in a chocolate cake. 

Lately I've been divorcing myself from the future, letting things run in the present like a motion picture.  I'm tired of splicing single frames of hope in what I typically assume will be an endless show of disaster following failure. Right now the picture is paused while I find out how to change the film. And when it starts again, I'll bring my colored pencils with me so I can show you how I colored the world just like the land of Oz.