When love is duty

Love is dead. Or is it? Is assuming responsibility also love? Is following your duty, love? When you wake up and choose something over and over, every day, even if you don't like it... is that love?

What is it supposed to feel like? At what point do you stop trying to recreate an old feeling?
Remember your first time? Is every thing after that point a chance to try to recapture the first time?

I miss the way the world felt when I was New.

melancholy musings

Empty, hollow
everyone uses the word "depressed", which implies the feeling of feeling of being 'pressed', pressed down, stepped on, deflated. But I don't feel anything. I'm empty, hollow. Nothing, and there never was. Just an anxious wind stirring up dead leaves. What's left when there's nothing left?