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16 Feb 2005 09:45 pmSometimes I feel like weeping without reason.
Like glass. Like oversensitive skin. So very fragile, so very feeling. Sounds and sunshine and people's smiles brush it and it makes me shudder. Paperthin boundaries.
Yet the world is less real. Less concrete, but truer. You could traverse it with a hand, if you're not careful, and reach for what's real beyond.
And it can be night or day, I can be alone or not. But it's different, whatever it is, though it shouldn't be. It feels different. Another space, a treshold.
And everything touches me. Everything is worth crying for.
But it's not a bad feeling.
In a way it's the most peaceful feeling I know. And very precious.
Like glass. Like oversensitive skin. So very fragile, so very feeling. Sounds and sunshine and people's smiles brush it and it makes me shudder. Paperthin boundaries.
Yet the world is less real. Less concrete, but truer. You could traverse it with a hand, if you're not careful, and reach for what's real beyond.
And it can be night or day, I can be alone or not. But it's different, whatever it is, though it shouldn't be. It feels different. Another space, a treshold.
And everything touches me. Everything is worth crying for.
But it's not a bad feeling.
In a way it's the most peaceful feeling I know. And very precious.