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.

In winner-take-all systems, swing voters matter only at election time
THE McELROY ZOO: Meet Tommy, who needs a home before winter
Doing the right thing frequently requires breaking immoral laws
A tax on folks who can’t do math? Winning may be worst possibility
Is there life on Mars? Is there love? Where can we find what’s missing?
We can’t control timing of death, just what we do as we’re waiting
Who’s afraid of a federal shutdown? Many of us hope for the real thing
In the face of hazardous times, some still driven to be helpers
One college senior explains financial facts to the Wall Street protesters