When the sound overcomes the sorrow, I know I'll have moved on.  Currently, I sit here a midst it all: the radio, the television, the family arguing and laughing, the landscapers trimming the neighbor's lawn; and I can't hear any of it.  My mind is pushing it all to this place in my consciousness where it's filtered into oblivion.  All my mind registers are thoughts.  Of you, of me, of my actions, of your reactions; and it makes either no sense or perfect sense.  The part of my brain that judges those types of things is currently unreachable.

My mind is just this deviant slide show of photos and persiflage, between us, about us, around us, above us; but I can't react.  I'm not allowed a say. I guess that's alright, because at this point I don't think I could say anything even if given the chance.