stopping and starting

Sadness is a funny thing. Way it happens with me anyway, is I have this duality of mindstates; I’m depressed and slow and unmotivated in one mind, but my other mind knows I need to get out and do stuff and see people, because staying in at home is the worst thing for me. This schizophrenia ends up feeling distinctly weird. And a few times a day I find myself slouching to a stop like a robot running out of juice, like time slows and sputters and stops, like…like…whatever it’s like. A mindblanked numbness. The world is full of silence. And then I push myself forward and time starts flowing, the world starts moving again. Maybe I’ve been playing too much Braid. The Princess is in another castle.