I have intense feelings and I don’t have any choice but to share them. That’s just the way I’m wired. I love powerfully. I hurt deeply. I experience joy with open exuberance.
I don’t hide my feelings well. If you’re paying any attention at all, you know where you stand with me, because I wear my heart on my sleeve.
But there are times — very rare times — when everything feels numb. When that happens, it means that some part of me — maybe a little part or maybe a big part — has finally died after an extended period of intense pain. It happens without warning, although it’s always predictable in retrospect.
I went numb today. It feels like walking in a driving rainstorm without an umbrella — and not caring what anybody else thinks.

Ghost of Richard M. Nixon haunts Obama administration’s IRS fiasco
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
When you can’t call one you love, silent phone just taunts your need
Watching kids on a Friday night reminds me of struggle to belong
A sincere apology can bring color back when the world looks gray
The Alien Observer: The blind are leading the blind
Silly controversy over Cadillac ad reminds us we want different things
Love & Hope — Episode 7:
Race discrimination: Sometimes evil, but sometimes praiseworthy?