A/N: I'm in a weird mood, my friend "murphy" wrote a line on IM, I asked her if I could use it, this is the result. I'm tacking this onto Perfect, just cuz I don't want to think up a new title, and I guess this is kind of angsty. And I guess it's time I updated it. Oh, btw, I've written part of a chapter for Snape, I just don't really have any motivation for finishing it right now, ::sighs::. And I guess this is another Draco chapter. I always seem to write his POV.... ::muses::

Disclaimer: ::gasp:: I actually have more than one thing to write a disclaimer for! 1: Harry Potter. If it was mine, I wouldn't be in a weird mood, and this drabble wouldn't exist. 2: the first line of this piece of drabble IS NOT MINE! It is Murphy's, which is what she requested I call her. So yeah, I guess everything else would be mine? ::scratches head:: wtv.

I can only imagine real emotion.

I can't really feel.

I walk around life, I see things, I experience them. I can hear bird song in the morning, I can see curtains being drawn, people waking up, I can practically taste this life I'm living.

But I don't feel anything.

I don't really fall in love, I don't really care for anyone, I don't really have anyone. I can say things, I can act like something, and I sometimes even honestly think that I really care. But then I take a step back, and everything's back to how it was, like-

Like this isn't really my life. I'm living in some stranger's body, speaking some script that I don't know about, going through with something that I've never known. I feel like I'm not really here, like I don't really exist. I can feel the keyboard under my fingers, hear the clacking as I hit the keys, but I'm not really sure if it's real. I know I'm here, I'm just not, I'm not really existing even. I don't even know how to describe it. I know I can try, but I don't know if I'll be able to say it.

Breathing is supposed to be an unconscious action, you're supposed to breath without even thinking about it. But when I'm lying in my bed at night, or staring at the computer on my desk, or eating dinner, or reading something, I have to tell myself to breath, to suck air into my lungs and let it out again. If I'm sitting in a car, and I start to get lightheaded, I know that my brain has forgotten that I exist, and that I should keep on living, and that I should survive. Then I have to tell myself to breath.

Then when my friends- acquaintances say something, some opinion, about politics, or a movie, or even a song. I don't know how to answer them. What do I say about something that I don't know about? I don't know, I don't care about politics, movies, they mean nothing. They take up several hours of my time, and I don't even notice it. I watch it, I remember it, and I might say that I love it, that I wouldn't be able to live without it, but inside I really know that if it were to disappear from my life, I would just find something else, that it doesn't really mean anything at all. When I listen to music, I try to blare it in my ears, deafening me, trying to make me feel this music, trying to make me feel something. It blasts through my mind, sweeping away everything else, erasing everything but this moment. Only it doesn't work, because the moment passes, and like a drug, I crave more, but it's not a drug because if it's gone I won't miss it. I can say that I don't know what I'd do without it, I'd even go insane, but I know that I won't, I can't, because I'm already insane.

I'll just sit at the computer, reading something online, I'll laugh, I'll cry, I'll swear, I'll do a million things, bring to life a million verbs, but inside, I'll not do those things. I'll be stone. Or not even stone, because I can't feel this. I can't really feel anything. I wonder if this is how humans are, if this is the way I'm supposed to be, feeling like it wouldn't even matter if I died because even then I don't think I would feel it.

I know that there's no one out there who will put me first. I know that there is no one out there who will ever look up to me. No stranger will ever stop me on the street and ask me if they know me, and really know me. No one's ever going to be honored that I talked to them on the street. I'm never going to be known.

Then my rational mind comes in (it always does, it's the only thing that's always there) and tells me to stop being such a bitch, stop being so jealous, stop being so irrational, of course, there are always going to be those on the bottom, and those on the top, unless everything just stops existing.

I can say that I like someone, say that I have a crush on them, even say that I love them. But I wonder. I wonder if this isn't just some carefully cultivated response. If I'm not some robot, telling myself to say certain things to certain questions.

I just feel so- hard to describe, because I don't know what I'm feeling. I can't tell, I never could, I never will. Whenever I'm "hungry", I feel my stomach convulsing, telling me that I need to eat something. I feel my limbs growing faint, like they'll drop off, and I know that I need energy to continue living. But then I go to the pantry, and I look at everything, and there's nothing to fit my mood, there's nothing that I want to eat. Even if I do find something that doesn't make me puke on the thought, I open it, look at it, smell it, and all of a sudden my throat closes, so dry, and I wonder what on earth possessed me to even think about this. But then I feel what my body's telling me, and I remember, and I force myself to eat. But I don't really want to, I don't feel like it. Everything feels mechanical, just- just unreal.

Even if I hurt, even if I'm crying, there's something in me, that just won't, won't, that just won't.

I just won't feel.

Please review! It will probaby help aforesaid weird/pissy/bitchy/depressed mood. Pretty please!