The weight of pent up things to say.
The exhaustion of being optimistic on the fact that everything is under control eats a person up more than being realistically negative about it.
The dampening of sparkle in the eye.
The realisation that how you want everything to be looks like its balancing off the edge of a cliff.
The quiet act of sweeping that realisation under the rug.
That feeling of losing touch.
The sense of knowing things you don't want to know.
The sense of wanting to know things you don't know.
The act that is unconsciously played out, scripted and structured to look like a dream that feels too distant.
The denial that the act is not done consciously.
The feigned excitement, the altered responses.
The silence that is not calming, but the silence that bites.
The process of trying to clear the mind, but having it feel more heavy instead.
The fear of the future.
The fear of the self.
Terrible feelings, all of them.
