with no shape or form

I have this weird feeling today. I'm not sure what it is. Loniness? Depression? Anxiety? I feel lost in some desolate place where there are no memories, no inspiration or determination. though full I have no means of adequate expression.
Happy to be homw at such an early time I am home because I have no energy, no need for preservation, nor a need to discontinue.
i feel peoples ghosts hanging around them. pain, hunger, lonliness, humanity ion all its regression, attempts at progression.
where does one road end and another begin? does it matter?
I have begun working on a new zine which gives me some feeling of direction and slight fulfilment, whatever that means.
i feel wrong and wronged.
I watched this great movie last night called Pinero about this Puerto Rican play write and sp0ken word poet. He was brilliant. So brilliant he couldn't handle it. Or maybe he couldn't handle to memories of molestation, loss, the rage and the grief. He sold himself to older men when he was a child to put food on his single mothers table.
movies like this hit home too much.
was he brilliant because he had been through so mcu? Because he could see through so much american racist bulshit? he because he loved more than any of us? I often wonder if these people that die so often, these brilliant artists that die from drug overdoses, suicide, etc do they go that route because they cannot handle the way they love the world because i believe they can see it so much clearer than the non artist (except maybe the philosopher). I am not talking about the normal conept of love but something that comes from insight that comes from need, intuition, connection to the rest of humanity.
if we do not have a connection to humanity can we create?
i've been thinking a lot today about how it is that people turn cold. Is 'cold' even really the right word? I assume that 'growing cold' would be your minds response to too much intensity, too much pain, too much experience that the feeling brain cant handle.
I have nothing particular to say, the moment has passed.

good evening filthy humans.