Learning

I have come to respect those who are able to understand jokes and concieve of happiness.

This has admitted been a problem for me. While I seem to have not a problem with sandess, anger, frustration, or worry, happiness, love and kindess elude me greatly. Most would see me as a meek, shy individual which is not all untrue. I am hesitant towards those I do not know but once I recognize them for who they present themselves to be, my nevousness stops, honor takes up where friendliness should and all seems rather buisness like with them.

Yes I have called people friend and honor them as such. Yes I would do very much for few I have welcomed to myself personally. But love, happiness to see them, are all muted. I do not understand what it is that is holding my mind from it.

When I was human and lived for a short time I did feel love. I did laugh I am sure of it. But I cannot quite recall the feeling. The gesture of a smile is seen and remembered. The sound of laughter is muttled but recalled. Perhaps it is when I found that relic along the beach... the relic which to this day I have no clue of what it was or where I have lost it. But since that day the voices came, my vision opened and I can see what lies behind the veil of reality.

I recall my time of life, my final years to be very opressive withi this new sight. When I met him things seemed to ease for a while but what lies before me would push harder, driving what concious thoughts I had from me until all seem blinded as a newborn.

It is difficult to explain that time. I was certainly present, but my eyes would be dazed, my mind somewhere else and not always, more frequently not my own. I took up drawing to clear my head, but the torrent of information grew and I now cannot escape it.

However I have derailed myself and must apologize to those who would read this. I mean to speak of learning.

Many have explained jokes to me, which is kind of them but I do understand them at first moment. Even if the language is crude, I have spent enough time in the city now that I have picked up on crude terms and meanings. What I do not understand is the reason to say such a thing, to let a joke fall from ones lips in order to make another happy does not seem to bode well with my mind. Others have touched me, physically, in kindness. A tap on the shoulder, an attempted hug for confort, but I dislike touch. It is something I feel is left over from my death and do not expect to get much better until I am able to feel happiness, especially love again. Which brings me conviently to love. While I have read the subject several times, both emotional and carnal, it is something I do not feel and understand that I should and that it is all right to feel.

I think I am broken.

*She sits back in the old leather chair, tapping her pencil against her book as she thinks. She sighs as her eyes narrow looking at the page. She hand runs through her hair as she brings the pencil down once more*

I am broken. I will fix myself through time, as I understand it, will heal all wounds.

*She closes her book and tucks it into her jacket once again.*