certain- I like being certain

I feel like I haven't had a good blog in weeks. I had an experience that seems to have left me somewhat hollow... possibly even shallowed my sense of soul, for a time anyway. I have felt like a fraud, a fake, and a liar. I can't explain, but I have to force my fingers to strike the keys; I have to concentrate on the screen, too hard.... too hard to do what I seem to love... what I claim to love. Passion shouldn't come forcefully; passion should be haphazard. I feel like I've run out of interesting things to say. Mundane activities seem to interest me more than writing... that is a scary thing I just typed. I can't believe I typed that sentence. Have I become that domesticated? Does domestication mean I give up my livelihood? I need to hold my love. Loving brings light into my eyes. Loving from a far puts a torturous glimmer towards the end of my eyelash... it clings, it clutches... it fights to return, but rumble tumble, collapse and crumble... it's left wadded on the floor, and before I know it, I've squashed it with my high heal.