Unrequited love themes have settled in on me during these dreary winter doldrums. I am thinking that perhaps they are the key that unlocks the trigger to my winter desolation. One theme is the hero who plugs away at a steadily declining hippie commune, and wakes up one day to discover that he is the only one who isn’t getting laid. But being that he is a plugger, he finishes up the incomplete projects, makes his goodbyes, and rides off into the sunset. Or in one version, soars off in his bush plane.
I just hate the dreary sadness that settles in on me, yet I seem to delight in wallowing in it. December is bad, but by January and through February it really gets to be heavy sledding. I have made a few efforts to describe the Satanic heaviness, but finally gave it up. If you haven’t been there, you wouldn’t know. Attributing spiritual forces as the cause if it seems to make more sense to me than trying to make some sort of psychological sense out of it.
Eventually, I succumb and let myself sink into the pit. It is easier than fighting it off. It is relentless.
So, I may write. Or I may not. I may go on facebook. Or I may not. If not, I’ll see you in Spring …