My Cardboard Balcony

I am an emotional person. In other news, cows produce milk and vaccines prevent you from getting measles. Yes, it may seem weird that I'm mentioning this. Everyone who loves me knows that I'm emotional. I am extremely sensitive. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve - I wear it pulsing on my arm. There are benefits to this. People can tell I'm genuine, know that I can empathize with them during hard times, and can tell that emotion allows me to be creative and in tune with at least some aspects of the human condition. And while for the most part, especially in a professional setting, I've worked hard to keep my emotional side tamped down, when it comes to moments of stress, pressure, and discomfort, my emotional side can really rear the uglier part of its head. It has not helped that I have a history of being bullied, or that I suffer minor forms of compound trauma due to bad job experiences in the past. So it's been a lot of work to build a shield to deflect

The Ocean Calls by Belinda Roddie For my sanity's sake, I will swim to England tomorrow.

We were builders once - constructing an empire out of mere shadows, which, once they collected lights, became monoliths of their own reckoning. We forged alliances with angels who wore celestial swords like talons on their hips, and so we crashed upon the chasm of Hell with chariots raging with fire. But then we were dismantled; piece by piece, we were segmented and relocated, and now the deconstruction is complete, and the realm is riddled with never-ending holes.