you know how when you get a really bad bruise that not only the slightest touch brings great pain, but even the thought of being touched in that spot can generate a lot of hurt. that's kind of the place i am in life right now. thinking about going out into the world or even letting the world in just brings this aching to my heart and tears to my eyes.
that sense of brokenness in all of the dimensions of my life persists and now it just seems like too much with which to cope. but the world does not stop for my hurt and expectations must be met. and so i carry my badly bruised self into what feels like an uncaring world and i bring it back, maybe even more bruised by the day's events, to this lonely domicile, where the pondering of isolation and hunger for affection and companionship creates more damage still.
and i wonder, what really is the point of it all?
a good read
i love reading a good memoir. i guess that shouldn't be too surprising as the concept of writing about one's life and the observat...
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