i feel strange. i am neither happy nor sad. there are plenty of things i should worry about, and plenty of things i suppose i ought to be cheerful about. but i'm rather non-commital at the moment. i don't feel like everybody else.
"a presence that disturbs me with the joy
of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
of something far more deeply interfused,
whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
and the round ocean and the living air,
and the blue sky and in the mind of man:
a motion and a spirit, that impels
all thinking things, all objects of all thought,
and rolls through all things."
~ excerpt from lines composed a few miles above tintern abbey by william wordsworth