Uncertainty

Is the silence from my readers from apathy or an uncertainty on how to respond? In the past month, I've gotten one comment from Ron; thank you, Ron. Anything is better for me than silence. When it's this quiet, the only voices I hear are the ones the rest of you can't.

My whole life, I've never connected well with other people. I don't fully, understand why, and never have. Every day for the past twelve years and six months, I've struggled with words for my experience. Until now, I've thought that the perfect words could free me from the shackles of my psychosis, and maybe loosen the flow of words headed towards me. For me, communication mostly goes one way, and alway has. Until tardive dyskinesia attacked my jaw, it was always oratory for me. Since then, I've developed my pen to the near exclusion of all else in what now seems senseless: the pursuit of understanding.

For now, I'll fight the Many Armed Knight for the slumber I crave. When I wake up, I'll fight him for comfort. I hope something comes back this way before I have to fight for slumber again after tonight's battle. Tell me anything

anything