Some kind of silence

The last week has been extremely strange. I heard on TV something about the number 7 and how people governed by it are moody and so forth.. and that happens to be all I remember of whatever that woman with the bad haircut was saying. Because I've been exceptionally moody this last week, though paradoxically, I don't believe anyone even noticed. Usually, when I have insignificant variations of temper, people go on about it as though it is the one thing above all else that defines me. And this week, when I was all about mixed emotions and confusion and turmoil, all around me there was some kind of silence.

It was the kind of silence that starts out by being imperceptible, goes on to make its presence felt, and keeps haunting you, trying to tell you that something is probably not quite right... only to settle around you softly, comfortingly, making you realise that it is not a cold strange spectre come to scare you witless, but a friend, a part of you, telling you that you need to remember what you are, that you can be with yourself and put your finger on what's troubling you much faster than you could with all the familiar atmospherics.

So, I've finally reached some conclusions. These, I hope, will help me live out the next phase of my life in comparitive peace. And maybe I'll even rediscover the Me who lived with everything essential inside me.

heartache

Its the old old question, I suppose. Are people more important than things like work? The obvious answer is Yes, but like so many other things in this life, saying a simple yes would mean forgetting that there are no easy answers for everything all the time. You'd use this answer for one person, and then forget all about it with another. Fair to the core, we all are.
Is it better to agree with everything someone else wants done, whether or not that is in any way compatible with how you want things to function? Especially when it means nothing great to them. There is no positive from the situation, but turning it down leads to a lot of negative anyhow. And what really hurts is that it feels like no one really cares about what you are going through in the process. Is there any sympathy anywhere? For just one moment instead of logical analysis of the rights and wrongs, is it possible to just say that it'll be ok, and that there is someone who will stand by you? Fine, no need to pander to maudlin depression, but once in a long while, when there is that need to comfort, why is there no one you can turn to?