The Point Farthest From The Sun

From time to time, life brings me to the point of Aphelion.

The best I can describe it is sustained emotional corrosion – a feeling of wrongness, a vague and distant pain. A slow and constant smoldering in the heart that isn’t intolerable in any given moment, but never lets me rest. It saps me day by day, until one day I wake up bleak – I’m passionless in expression, but internally writhing in a cloud of muted emotions. I can’t identify anything I’m feeling, just a directionless sense of bad. When I reach that point, I dump here to sort my thoughts out and start the cycle back towards the sun.

These thoughts are not for your entertainment or approval; I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think about them. I post publicly to avoid the stifling cowardice of a journal. Words that stay locked away might as well have never been written in the first place – the venom and bile they contain remain within me. When I scream into the void here, there’s always a chance someone hears an echo, and that possibility solidifies what I write. I can’t make excuses or pretend they never happened, and can’t back away from the reality of the feelings I express. These feelings have fangs and thorns and sorrow and fury and hatred, and if I don’t pluck them out in earnest, they stay in me as they are.

These posts remain anonymous, however, because they’re usually directed at people close to me – and though I may bear contempt for their actions, I have no desire to hurt them by saying it to their face. I won’t ask or trust you to respect that – I simply won’t give you the opportunity to identify anyone involved.

In the vanishingly small chance that you know me in person, and you find yourself mentioned here… I’m sorry.