Lost in Translation

Its strange;

The more I draw inside myself; into my center; learning to speak with me...

The less I'm able to speak with other people.

I know this is going to sound very... callow... and whats worse... I'm starting to not care.

Maybe I'm just tired and grumpy; but I don't want to know about people's lives, I don't want to hear all about the drama that lead up to this moment.

I just want to share this moment with them.

After all... if we're a product of our past; then by looking in our eyes; hearing our words... shouldn't that tell our story?