Saturday, September 29, 2012


An exchange of texts and me being blunt and saying I was depressed as hell the other night led to a long conversation in which I was damn near incoherent attempting to explain the little dark cloud that's hovered over my head as long as I can remember, that yes, I really am okay, because know that there is still some light in these dark nights of the soul, that the frustration and despair is not nearly what it was back in the teenage years, ironically enough before I found God and doomy tuneage around the same time and learned to cope.

But this was brought on by stupid writer's block, which extrapolated to not just sucking at creating, but sucking at everything, knowing that this is irrational, and totally firstworldproblem and I tell him that I feel even worse for feeling this way because my life's been way easier than his and I'm sitting on a back porch with a mug of tea while he's stuck in Erie. But we make each other laugh, so everything is fine. And now my laptop's dead for the time being at least so I have even more excuses.

And of course the clouds pass, and the laughter returns. I'm still tired from staying up too late and rocking out too much. I spent last night drinking tea with someone I rarely get to see, the morning with the ladies of the family and the absurdly cute nephe, the afternoon darkthroning with a friend's dog along rivers through the woods and wetlands. The sky was so perfectly azure and the leaves were green and golden. I finally feel like my soul's back to normal.


  1. See, Emo Kid, everything works out in the end.