Weight

I had one of those bad days yesterday, the kind where words can offer no solace or give joy. For a couple of hours this morning the darkness had such weight that it felt like it was crushing me, and I had reached the point that I couldn't take any more. Even right now, it's hard to describe the feeling. I have to force out each word when usually they flow, and what I see only adds to my burden. So there will be nothing funny, nothing profound, only a great emptiness that squeezes my soul like a vise. If I had started walking to New Orleans when I had first thought of it, I would be in Iowa by now. Maybe I should be happy that I am still in the Twin Cities. I almost cheered myself up earlier, but I dread what awaits, the cold that will soon come to consume me. As a philosopher, I am also intrigued by the possibilities.