Out Of Touch

I've always been savvy with my use of language, able to express myself succintly in English without much problems. Always able to find the right word to fit exactly what I would like to convey. I've always been able to twist and turn the English language around to suit my purposes, as a means of saving grace from a freudian slip, or as a poisoned barb, to reconcilitory purposes.

But somehow, there is this feeling of unrest within me that I cannot put a finger on. It stirs within me, giving rise to a sense of disquiet that I cannot will away. It could be the effects of my emotional burnout? Or is it? I've speculated for hours on end as to what this feeling entails...but I've not the words for it. And I can't blog if I cannot decipher this feeling; it overrides my thoughts and floods out whatever I may have thought of typing into that entry; I have 6 unfinished drafts that just came to a standstill when this feeling took over my creative juices...

For once, I'm at a loss...out of touch with my expressive self.

Or then again, is it because it's the feeling that is impossible to describe?


Dad's leaving in 2 weeks...
Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.