What is this feeling?
No uplifting or disheartened wave
of motivation that moves in me.
It's so stagnant, so dry.
As if I'm truly tired of it all.
It's scary.
I'm afraid of myself-
what if I finally became neutral?
Then there would be no room to love
nor hate.
There would be no taste of humanity seeping through my coarse veins.
There would be no necessity to write.
It would be just rational.
Fail, cry, and be neutral.
Move on as if every little thing would be insignificant.
Do you want that?
I don't want it myself.
Am I finally tired of it all?
I think I may be for I am ceasing to fight it.
Or it's just another phase.
Well, a feeling's a feeling.
And this one made out into writing.
*sigh
I'm writing for no one but myself
hoping that people who matter can read it and understand what I'm going through.
But it seems to garner no benefits nor cutbacks.
This hobby might just be something neutral.
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