I started looking at myself surgically, trying to pry everything out. I wasn’t me to myself anymore. I was another person I was dissecting, so separated from my feelings that I started feeling like a machine – a broken one, at that.
I started looking at myself surgically, trying to pry everything out. I wasn’t me to myself anymore. I was another person I was dissecting, so separated from my feelings that I started feeling like a machine – a broken one, at that.
My Little Hawk 