I shut off all the sensors of my brain,
the ones that send these feelings to my heart.
So close to giving up, I stand the line –
alone in this watch tower of the mind,
I take a stand, push my feet deep into the ground,
and let nothing in; I hide away inside.
With secondary joys I pass the time;
occupy my mind with childish games –
in books, stories, poetry I drown myself;
in other people’s sorrows, fears and joys.
And not one single word, I fear, will now emerge –
not one word will send forth these hands of mine.
I will be left without my passions, sadness, hate –
I will stay quiet here with nowhere left to go.
And yet I will inflict this on myself so willingly,
even if the outcome scares me most;
when pain would be the only thing to feel,
it’s better not to feel a thing at all.