Psychic Detachment

I have been up all night reading several obscure novels written by authors long since dead and gone. The subject matter is heavy, the contents peppered with philosophical musings. It is appropriate, since it serves to polish me up like marble, making me feel detached and unemotional. The past few days have seen me oscillating between periods of extreme fury and anger, and the blueness of misery that always accompanies my eruptions. My soul has not yet rested, but today will not see me seeking refuge in a church or place of worship; I do not have the time or energy to mask myself surrounded by zealous dedicates. I spent well over a day resting and recharging my physical self, but my mental self is worn down to the bone. I cannot trust my instincts when I am this tired, and I have no idea how to rejuvenate my soul. As it is, I believe I have to switch to auto-pilot for the day. I was handed a second chance at salvation, but being the strong-willed ass that I am, I scoffed and turned my back. The offer has not been rescinded, however, and it still stands, a veritable pillar of flame in the darkness my life has become. I am surprised at how well I managed to untangle my emotions and identify each one that troubles me. My unresolved love, unrequited after two years, my disdain for blood ties, my scorn for those who are slaves to their emotions. I considered my options, discarded most and came to the conclusion that for the time being, I have to draw my emotions in on myself, like a bat's wings on a cold foggy morning. The power struggle has been fought and won. The cost is high, but I've stated my values, and there is no monetary value that can buy that kind of prestige. I can't breathe without wincing just yet, but the wounds have proven to be more than slight annoyances. Moth to flame, flame to wick. The things we desire the most can often be, and usually are the things that destroy us the quickest. Therefore there is a certain wisdom in detaching myself from such desires. My talk with Kenneth last night has calmed both our turbulent hearts, and in its wake is stillness, if not peace. There are few people I have ever attempted to connect with, and even fewer are those who I actually trust. I cannot deny that recently my sociability levels have been leaning towards recluse, but I have my reasons. There are those who observe me unseen, attempting to unravel part of the mystery that surrounds me like a cloak, and it is partly my fault that my arrogance has become my undoing. I have been so certain that it is I who observe and deduce, that I fail to recognise others may peek into my mind now and then. Regardless, now that I am aware of such invasions, I will take the steps necessary to fortify my defenses. The pestilential migraine will not leave me, and every bone in my body aches. Still, the new day has arrived, and I have to keep appearances up. I have an appointment at nine, which leaves plenty of time afterwards for me to paint over the cracks. I have left many issues unresolved, and there will be enough time for me to tie up some loose ends before the day draws to a close. Chief on my list is how lax I have become with security. *shakes head* I am appalled to find the number of regrets at the end of each day. This is something I have to address immediately. It is a pale dewy morning, and I am already tired even before the day's whirlwind of activity has begun. Still, there are hearts that need soothing, and there are tears that need to be shed and spilled. My detachment will serve me well in the days to come. Some hearts I cannot heal, and some souls are beyond my reach.
Donna nobis pacem.