That's what I miss Cordelia: not something that's gone, but something that will never happen.

I'm not happy nor sad. I'm sitting on a fence in between and it's spiky and barbed and uncomfortable as hell. It's nice to be happy and have fun and laugh and dance around. It's nice to be sad and lonely and write sad poetry and read books. I don't like the fence thing. The fence thing is like a bunch of pretty paints all mixed together so it turns an ugly sort of brown.

Right now I feel like an ugly sort of brown. I feel like the murky water in the cup after you've washed your paint brush in it lots of times. I feel like the weather when its drizzling/slightly cloudy and you feel like hiding in the basement until it clears up or just starts pouring rain. I feel like the milk at the bottom of my bowl of finished coco puffs.

Remember those elementary school posters that show kids with their faces portraying some sort of emotion and are labeled "happy, sad, mad, excited" and so on? I wish I had one of those, maybe I could figure out my emotions after analyzing my facial expression in the mirror.
What happens when I'm all of them? Do they all together equal "confused"? Or maybe just "certifiably insane", where's the cute little kid for that?