Hello, silver. I know you can see me.

   I'm riding a funny line. I think I might start speaking in code again, and I don't know if it's a coping mechanism to hide from scary pieces of myself or just a stupid mode of living.

   I dunno if I'm just settling into the kind of crazy that writers live in or if I will be a cause to worry soon. My intentions aren't black now, just bleak, but I still catch myself shaking sometimes.

   Two days ago I was standing in my little apartment kitchen alone, just standing, and I burst into sobs. This catches me off guard and out loud I say "This is ridiculous," and start laughing. But I can't stop crying either, so the two mingle and create an awful sound monster wherein I am left to look at myself and wonder if I really am as sane I thought I'd managed to become. I have these quiet moments so often and I don't know how to convey the sheer terror of them to anyone. Maybe I still take to death-thoughts for comfort but I don't have to tell anyone. I'll handle it and get some good sleep, the best temporary death.

   I forgot what it was like to be balanced whilst still being right in the throes of depression. It's such a normal form of bleakness; so hard to notice but it's entirely around me.

   I'm compulsively picking again.