Alarm; discomfiture... The Adrinalin quickly awakens in a thundering boom from it's deep slumber... I have been faced with the question... It means nothing to anyone else, but somehow, to me, in this instant, it means all the world... My hands become slightly shakey, as do my knees... I am cold and clamy... My throught tightens and I can taste bile in the depths of my mouth, burning away at my tongue... The question is simple:
"Are you Okay?"
"Well, yes," I reply, masking myself," I'm fine." With that I remain latent, insular.
And yet, sadly, I find I must ask myself a more intruiging question; "Is it a Secret, or a Lie?"
COMENTARY:
They're called "white lies" or "fibbs"... Of course, regardless of the real answer, most Secrets become lies... This I'm well aware of, but I do hate trying to describe how I feel... It's in constant motion, always changing... That's the only sufficient answer, and yet it simpley does not do for most.... I've even caught myself saying," Well, I'm bipolar; how the hell should I know...?" |
