There are days when you just want to touch upon everything lightly. You want to keep a distance between yourself and all the molecules in your surroundings. It's like if something must touch you, you'd prefer that it does so in a featherlight way. I don't know what to call it really, but these are days wherein my spirit seems to be in a sense of suspended animation, every passion is stilled, and every emotion is blunted. There's a heaviness in me which causes these states, yet at the same time I feel as if i'm floating in apathy. Strange, this desire not to be too bored, yet not too excited about the things going on around me. Queer, that while I want to feel things, literally and figuratively, I want to do so only with the brush of a fingertip, I don't want anything to do with what's beneath the surface.

Beauty only as long as it's skin deep, as they say, I have no interest in depth or intentions or anything whatsoever that's underlying. I have need only for the aesthetic. I will look no further than what my eyes can see.

How unlike me.