Cars Pass and Days Pass

I've been sleeping close to eighteen hours a day. Some aided with two or three of my diminishing anxiety meds, most not. Work in the evenings. Come home and sleep until I work again.

In sleep I can dream. In sleep I can set things right. In sleep I am not awake, alive, or a part of this anymore. I dream of ghosts, I dream of you. I dream of cities and futures and plans and the longer I dream the more linear it becomes. The more real. Beg to stay.

I wake. Go to work.

Walk the hour in the wind and through the traffic and I have no interests now. I no longer desire music, or art, or creation at all. Friends keep reaching out. I keep nodding and agreeing and smiling.

I argue with myself about you, about letting that go, about letting it all just go, and when we speak you are full of anger and vitriol and I should ignore you, block you, but anything is better than nothing. Anything.

I argue with myself, to let go and forgive so many of you. I argue with myself that there must be better days ahead and what a waste it would be if I don't see them. I argue I argue I argue.



I see nothing in the mirror.



I've been visiting people I've lost. Contacting them, and soon I will start visiting the people I need to forgive. I want no more weight. I want my heart to be clean and I want to tell you all I love you, because I do, in ways all your own.

I'm not sure why I am writing this, or even who I am writing it for.

I suppose I just need a witness, and this is the easiest way for me to express myself.

I've been sleeping eighteen hours a day. I have no interests. I am making the rounds.


Walk the town. Watch the snow melt. The cars pass and the days pass and I mourn. Futures, people, my self.

Better days might be there, I keep seeing signs, or maybe I'm looking for them. Come downstairs and hear the radio say "you are important". Open a book and the characters discuss the sadness of lost sunsets. I see the signs. But it just feels like I'm being talked at. Not to. I don't think I can be convinced. I tried. I took a year. I cleaned myself up. I found better habits and I made an effort and yet, now.

I don't think I can be convinced.

I tried.