become broken, relative to myself (who is in turn broken relative to other people). i can't function how other people seem to (though this could be egotistical solipsism and everyone perceives themselves as an exception) but now i can't even cling to the things that were consistent to me. they evoke so little emotionally and they just leave a vacuous absence and only a vague guilt for not being able to care more, not a sufficient level of guilt to simply be a transmutation of feeling. or something. i wonder how much damage i've done to myself through introspection and pretentious musings. i hope things get better. i always do.
on a quick note, though the attention i give this sight is very distant from what it once was, i now find myself mystified by my traffic figures. i completely understand the lows with the occasional geiger counter crackles; i don't know where 60 views, april 7th comes from. april 19th, 219. april 20th 322. perhaps, someone i know is silently perusing old journals or something. hopefully not, that can't be much fun for them. anyway, my paranoid mind doesn't quite seize upon, but tacitly tilts towards the idea.