I have always been in the habit of measuring my life with my heart. If it were overflowing, it was a good sign. It meant I was drowning in something more powerful than myself: love, hate, despair, desire. If my heart lay dormant, silenced, then I would pronounce myself dead, but be prepared to resurrect myself at the next surge of depth.
Now, however, my heart refuses to expand or dilate. Instead, it beats annoyingly constant, annoyingly indifferent.
I am distant from myself.
What an odd feeling--to be so distant from yourself that your own heart does not contain your heart.
My thoughts are quiet. I feel almost peaceful.
But, still, something within me is pacing back and forth like a trapped animal. Impatient. Grandiose. Anonymous.