"Oh God it's raining
And I'm not complaining
It's filling me up
With new life."
--Depeche Mode, "But Not Tonight"
Context is not everything, but for some reason, lately timing means everything. The way a word is received or retrieved, the time and place of it, all that is so important. Imagine being far away from a sentence, far away from the feeling of it, where it comes from, whose mouth it comes out of. A year from now, you might forget the space and the place, but when you face the thing squarely, you might feel strongly about it.
There is something wonderful about being able to detach yourself from an emotion. We call people who do this wreakers of havoc, emotional cripples, death warrants. But damn, to be able to turn that shit off like a faucet, before the water floods the bathroom and the shower doors collapse upon your tired body-- that is a gift.
And it's a gift much like Pandora's box, absolutely exquisite until you open it, and all the crap comes out, and you wish it was closed-- until you see that final shine of hope.