kleenexwoman | (no subject)

I've been spiraling inwards, I think. My mind is going deeper at the same time it's hiding from everyone. Mom commented on this during vacation; I used to be so chatty, she said. Why wasn't I saying anything? Was I depressed? I told her that I was just thinking.
It used to be that I had to fill up silence. Now I'm comfortable with letting it go, thinking my own thoughts while waiting for them to speak. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. I'm getting used to not interacting with people. Unless it's online, in which case I say stupid things. Some of the stuff that comes out of my keyboard makes me sound a) pathetic and b) stalkerish, which I fervently hope I am not. I probably am and don't realize it.

I got published in the Central Review. It's a poem called "Seven Seconds." There was a reading today for everyone who was published in it, and I read mine.
I just realized that it's oddly pertinent to the first part of this update. However, I have to go to a meeting, so I shall post it in an hour or so.