Humidity and Horrible People
I feel like I want to give up. I just don’t want to go on with this charade. Is it because of the all horrible people in the world, or is it the humidity?
Every time I turn on the tv, or get on Facebook, I’m confronted with stories of hate, greed, and just plain stupidity. I’m afraid that all of this noise washing over me is starting to seep into my pores. It’s invading my bones. I find myself hating the people I accuse of being haters. I don’t want to be that person. I want to rise above it, but right now I just don’t feel like rising. I feel like sitting down in the middle of the sidewalk and crying. That could be because of the humidity. Humidity makes you so tired doesn’t it?
This is just a funk that I’m going through. It may be because the days are getting shorter. When the first day of summer comes, I start feeling like it’s all over. You’d think I’d have enough sense to enjoy the warm days that are still to come, instead of dreading winter’s inevitable arrival. You would think that wouldn’t you?
Sometimes I think I should stop writing and instead focus on photography. I should make stories with images. I think that would be moore difficult than it sounds. I like words, I like pictures, I like music. I guess I can’t be that depressed if I still like things.
I didn’t think I would write anything this evening. I did write, and I’m glad of it.
I dreamed the other night of a clogged toilet. I had to reach into it and pull out the objects that didn’t belong and were causing the clog. There’s probably some deep meaning to that. Should I be plucking the things out of my life that are blocking my flow? I don’t like the word flow, but it will have to do for now.