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?