jackshoegazer | My life is dead but without limit, like the surface of the moon.

Lately, I feel frozen and it has nothing to do with the weather.

I find myself unable to accomplish anything, unable to imagine life other than it is, myself other than I am.

Stuck. Stagnate. Static.

I mentioned in a comment recently that in the past, I was extremely shy and introverted. Then I successfully employed the fake-it-till-you-make-it method to build the confidence I needed to act out. I suddenly found myself smiling and talking to strangers, making friends, being extroverted and cordial. It worked. I was suddenly a bright, shining sun, and not the pale, moon of the past. I was the source of the light, not just it's reflection.

Now, I feel like I've regressed back. Perhaps it has something to do with working nights; the darkness attracts the lunar people. Perhaps it is connected to so much else in my life going wrong the past few years. It's almost as if I can trace it back to the day I found out about my heart condition. Perhaps I began to shrink and dim from that day on. As if the blood clot was the supernova of my days as a sun, and now I've become a little white dwarf. A scientific curiosity, but no longer a bright, radiating, sustainer of life.

Continuing with the astronomical metaphor, I'd like to pretend that rather than a little dwarf of a star, that I am like Mars in Total Recall. I may be barren and cold, but there is a key which will melt all the ice and return me to my original, pristine beauty. An alien hand which will cause a chain-reaction that will bloom life in my tired eyes.

Yes, that's much better.