It's so quiet. Not the silence of peace, but a silence to denote emptiness. Even when there is nothing to be heard, nothing to be lost, Im still fleeing. As curious as it is, in this place to write my thoughts, I feel like a fraud. So detatched am I from everything, what I feel or see or want when I return for my brief moments, that to write them seems folly. Alas, it probably is.

There is a peverse pleasure in releasing the tension and anxiety, worry and pain that months have stored. Some people run, some scream, fight, cry...each to his own. When we fill ouselves with emotions that cause only hurt, it builds and builds until eventually it bursts.

Sometimes, we need to let it all go, to realise it mean nothing at all to begin with.