My inactions and decisions remain inconsequentially deadlocked. I am yoked by my very own disposition – must not, can not feel. My sense of expression is tussled and bemused at it’s own futility. I want to reveal it all at my own indiscretion. What do I know? My state of mind is detached from that of the heart, and I bear no weight of the corollaries.  I can resort to unorthodox approaches.  The possibilities malign me  yet I equip myself with constant reassurances – What do I know?


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