I haven't written much lately. How the hell do you write when you are happy? It just sounds boastful, or naive. I'd much rather be accused of angst than boastfulness.

And so I am writing again, but I'm not unhappy, necessarily. I just feel strange. I feel like I'm splitting into two halves, complete opposites, and somehow maintaining them both and watching them both grow separately without bias. I feel detached. I feel dichotomous.

"You know, most things in life, you're damned if you do, damned if you don't. Doesn't change the fact that you have to choose."