Sweet

There is a sickly sweet feeling, a kind of syrupy coating to reality. It is filled with terror, sharp as razors, and yet bouncy soft in places, at times. Things are too bright and hard outside, too dull and squirmy inside. Intellectualizations buzz around my head, clouding everything in a cacophany of interior monologue. And yet deep, at the core, is a howling, shuddering silence.