The problem with writing is that it mimicks proper conversation. While it feels liberating and productive, it is overly analytical and circular in nature- particularly when the topic in question is emotional and the damage caused,irreparable. So while I may think that I am "working things out", the sad truth is I am only sputtering and turning in circles. My writing does not speak back to me. Even now, I write as though speaking to someone. But these words are meant for reflection, for snapshots so why do I expect a resolution or an ending? What horrid frustration indeed.

Therefore, there will be no more hysteria on these pages from now on. (It is absolutely stupid of me to indulge in it, hoping for some kind of way out when I know damn well that I am just prolonging these vicious episodes for no other reason than to wallow in misery and self-pity.)