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.

China’s one-child policy: Unintended consequences on a grand scale
I don’t know how to amuse you into taking your future seriously
We’re more like other animals than we like to admit to anyone
UPDATE: No, I really haven’t died; I’ve just lost my sense of purpose
If our assumptions don’t match, we can clash with best intentions
Fear blocks us from experiencing reality deeper than physical world
Check out my re-runs if you’d like, because I’m on vacation for a bit
Another Obama-favored solar firm crashes — after $535 million loan
Objective reality has now become offensive in dysfunctional culture