DARK SIDE OF THE MOON.

"There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it is all dark."

Do you writers go through the same phase as mine? When you know exactly what to write, what is real, but you keep avoiding it so as not to get hurt by its existence? I know exactly what to say, but I don't want to. This phase has happened for quite a long time. If I state it here, I feel like my words will betray me and portrait myself as a helpless person. The more I hold in, the heavier it weighs down on me. What I feel is similar to yours while watching Sherlock Holmes. The more you watch him, the clearer his humanity appears to be. And you start to feel the unreasonable disappointment of a human being being human. Sherlock Holmes should not be considered as a human. I portrait myself as a machine, here and elsewhere. If I mention something too personal, as measured in my consent ruler, I will feel human. That is too close. Many times have I repeated to myself not to give anyone that closure. Yet, sometimes I urge to explain myself.

When I write something, I don't know which is which or who is who. I just write until I stop. The only time I understand the whole thing is when I reread it for the first time. The second time won't be the same. By the third time, I'll learn by heart the details and the surprises, if any.

It's so difficult to write these days. What's left to write? The more energetic I am at work, the drier my soul becomes at night. I can feel something is missing. I know that I'm missing that thing as being empty from it and, missing it. It makes me feel incompetent.

Sometimes I imagine myself having conversations with it. Sometimes I wake up and hope it really did happen. Most of the time, I'm glad it's all in my imagination.