January 26, 2026

 

This gnarling urge to define it, yet oblivion holds my tongue. There's a hollow expression sitting on my feeling. I am nauseated. The fear is palpitating. The air is rancid. I am inept to describe what ails me. But it feels like I can cry if I unlock it. As if silence is a monster looming behind me. I know this feeling. It's my diagnosis. My disease.
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