mute.

...so. A few people from various quarters have written me some very nice things lately. It makes me grateful- I wrote happy, but erased it, because what can I say? "Happy" is an incredibly ephemeral state, and I don't lay claim to it, despite being fortunate enough to have moments of joy, or just enjoyment, now and then in response to some stimulus. My mood has been variably shitty in the past ... while. Enough so that even were the usual stage fright- prompted when someone makes basically any sort of positive-ish response towards something I've done or said- not an issue, I would still have the problem of not being able to stay in a good enough state of mind to be able to write an entire reply. A few nice sentences, and then a sharp left turn at self-deprecation, followed by an uncontrolled swerve into bitterness.


And while there's no little voice that literally says, "you don't deserve to know anyone who has a chance of genuinely liking you. You don't deserve to have people be nice to you," there may as well be, for I do believe it, when you come down to it.

Not that it should matter- what does any of it ever come to, after all? But this hasn't yet stopped mattering. I suppose than in the midst of everything else, I should let myself be glad for that, even if I don't have any idea what to do with it.

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