I wrote a poem today about the desire to isolate myself against the world during my occasional fits of depression. I can barely stand going to school anymore but I am so far along I don't know what else to do anymore. I am taking a Spanish class that is only two nights a week but I hate it - it's like strapping in wide-eyed for the Ludovico Technique for two and a half hours at a time.
Anyway, the poem did the trick... alleviating this slight sense of horror and allowing me to go back to sleep free of fucked-up dreams of car crashes and pulling half dead people from pools of cold water. I had the sense it was the same dream repeated over and over again until I had to remember it.
The new season is finally changing cold & I look at the blank grey skies and wish I could vandalize them with spray paint but just now I don't know what I'd say.
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