Long Yet Laconic

I am so nearly at the end that I can hardly bear it! 7 more posts after this one I think. I am amazed by how eager I am to finish, how uninspired I feel, and how silly it seems to continue when I don't want to. All in the interest of symmetry perhaps?

I lay in a park and looked at the sky yesterday. A particular feeling creeps in: I can't speak adequately, and I make numerous attempts to articulate a particular feeling, and instead talk around it and around it and around it. It takes a long time, but somehow it is stupidly laconic. I can't express these feelings of fear and failure. I can't tell him that I am scared that he will leave me because there is so much wrong with me. It doesn't quite make sense the way it does in my head. There is a horrible disparity between what I feel and what I am able to say. Am I not able to speak when I need to? Yet I am so well equiped with the tools to do so.

Blogging feels stupid now. Are we over it now? Is there any future to it? Is it all just self indulgent wank that no one cares about? I can't be bothered reading other blogs now, when I was so excited by them to begin with. And I feel that if I leave mine to sit and fester here on its own, it will eventually disintegrate and no longer exist.