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.

VIDEO: Peaceful river reminds me we often miss the peace we crave
500 years after Luther’s 95 theses, there’s still not much to celebrate
Childhood programming trains us to wait for authority’s permission
An emotional vampire craves you, but he doesn’t know how to love
We live in Reverse World, where black is white and good is evil
Things you do in life determined by who you decide you want to be
If you need incentive to prepare for the future, look to London today
Like an alien, I move through a world I can see but never touch