A Closer ConFessional

To complicate is under estimating the concept of normalcy.
Decency is the product of isolation framed in cheery moments and hypocrisy induced mental wrecks.

I am all and nothing of such notions.

Omission is a pretty form of a liars web. I've omitted enough in my life to create a rather beautiful artistic impression of my portrayal to the outside entities I collide with. Omission is a brilliant form of avoidance and I'm finely skilled at not saying a single word, therefore, omitting that which is encased within.

Omissions is akin to blaming a muse being on vacation. Omission is the art of not expressing, foregoing voice and pretending all is bright in a world lacking a light bulb.

Created equation and resulting simple answer.
I'm in a black mood these days.
Omitting it, hasn't resolved a single thing.

A black mood of course, requires several contributing colliding factors. I've been able to add a check mark to all boxes provided. It will pass, this I never worry about. Complicated contributions that have no need to be detailed here, has gotten the better of my workings. This, happens. This, I am all right with. This, I am not worried about.

My aggravations are interesting enough. Room is given for reflection and preventative measures in the future. Besides, sometimes, a black mood can be the perfect drug to slow things to a crawl, in my world anyway.

I see it as being relative to the size of your tolerance.

This may come as a surprise based on some of my writings, but in my reality based world, I'm considered by most as an extremely even tempered, even toned moods, even keeled person of the bunch. 99.9% of the people in my world have never seen me cry, yell, rant or rave.

That is of course by design.

You set a precedence and falling below the level of normalcy can cause a ruckus among those who depend on you.

These pages, I get to show a different side. It also shows me how much I intentionally omit in my surroundings. Representation of different angles and slices of a personal entity. This is what writing does for me. In verbal words, it feels like a violation of my existence. In written words it feels like a release of core.

No one can have my aggravations. My blackness is mine to nurture and heal. My light is mine to shine abound. My representation is mine to convey. It's my way of keeping myself close at heart and mind and portrayal may be omissions, it may be careful representations, or perhaps, I am just as open as the next.

Just to be closer, is one step I'm always willing to make.

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Within my dark, I'm afraid, my words have become quiet,
my journal visiting has suffered, my commenting has fallen to a drop a day.
I hope, that no one, would feel as though I have deserted their journal.
I hope, that no one would take offense to my lack of written comments.
I am still reading, I am still absorbing, quietly and contentedly.
I seek, a temporary pardon from the people whom I selfishly and gratefully absorb inspiration from every day.

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Have a wonderful weekend everyone.
I will be hiding in the Mountains without all the conveniences of modern cell phones, Internet lines and even TV.
It should be a perfect weekend in solitude~