we're dancing in riddles on top of dead dreams

tap tap tap. backspace. delete delete delete. Nothing comes out right, and I'm lost for words over and over. Instead of letting it flow, I start to compartmentalize the emotions that range over a vast scale of feelings. I categorize and deconstruct it, as if somehow naming each and every part will help me get rid of the feeling. The reality is that there are no names, because I've not even given faces to them. I'm storing them before I've even had a chance to find the root cause. And then there's the added difficulty of not always having a root cause, not being able to trace it back to some specific time and place. Sometimes, they are just feelings and they can't be named. I'm scared of those spaces that force me to feel it, and so I strategize my moves so that I'm not ever face to face with them. Highly problematic, and almost impossible. I can avoid it temporarily - but I'm no good at lying, and even worse at hiding. Eventually, I find myself here - and it's time to feel it. This is it - in all it's ugly preface... January is dark and cold, and I am sad. Forgive me.