My hands are shaking now, to a point where I feel I have Parkinson's, because I'm not sure what to do with what what I know, with what is. Because I've received interpretation (without the full picture, mind you), and it just confuses me more. All the deceptions and lies told, the truths I hold in my hands that I cannot offer because it is not my place to do so. I'm so hung up on a madness that cannot and will not be solved that it's making my body shake with nausea. And in these hands (these tired, cold little hands), I'm waiting openly, all the evidence atop the skin, but no one will ever be able to see it because to them it is not there.

I get tired of worrying myself to sleep at night, tired of feeling like I mean nothing to so many, when in fact I've just been a bad friend the past few weeks. I do not call like I used to, nor do I communicate in any of my previous ways. I simply sit and hope that things will come to me. I'm trying to do the right things: let go of things I need to, hold fast to the others, and stare straight into the setting sun (because where else is there to go but forward?). I cannot live in constant regression. I'm trying to make decisions based on more rationale than heart (silly thing gets me in so much trouble sometimes), but it feels empty to be using so little of me.

I just need a break, something fun, something that will make me feel like my being here is still worth my time.