Too many feelings, too little expression

Too many feelings, too little expression

I am consciously neglecting a non-negligible part of my life. I am not raising voice to the formation of a huge black curtain in-between. What should I do? I mean, what should I do “now”? Everyone has right and ability to say what should have done. But, there must be something that can be done “now”.

Let me try to recall what I can remember: bicycle, music, sleepless nights, books, and of course, promises, promises -especially the ones that were especially big. Was I innocent? “Am” I innocent?

Perhaps I am innocent, perhaps not. But anyhow, what exactly is the punishment? Is this conscience-attack part of it? But is this enough?

Would you still call it a punishment if the punished does not realise it? How would you punish an indifferent person?

Is there a way out? Is there a way in?

I once tried to explain to myself. Is it none of my business? But, none of whose business is it then?

Let's start all over.

There is a way out: Keep silent, keep undisturbed, keep reasonable, keep logical.

No, there is another way out: Speak out, discuss about it. With whom? This may send you way out.

There might be a way out.

Does this look terribly depressing? It's not because my life is terribly depressing, it is because I am terribly depressing.

Let's start all over.

Let's not end all over.

Whatever you would prefer to call it. Whatever you would prefer to feel. Whatever you would say about it. Whatever I feel. Whatever I say. There must be a way in.

Is it too late now? Is it too early?

It is not a call, not a demand, not a wish, not even a complete sentence.

Short story in shortest: I need -at least some of- my memories.