For the Lack of a Corner

Its been quite a while since I’ve posted to my blog, the truth is that it hasn’t been a7094579747_0a4e75a057_b vacation but I’ve been living in exile in a dark cave. Not a real cave mind you, but one of my minds own creation, not sure why it thought that this was a good idea but good or bad doesn’t change the fact that this is the current situation.

Such is the life of someone living with the joy of depression, I turn on my computer, open a new word document then sit and stare at the blank screen. All the things that I had wanted to say suddenly don’t seem to be worth the energy necessary to move my fingers to the keyboard. It seems like I should be able to force my will on my own mind, insist that it cooperate with my desire to be creative, after all it makes me feel better and right now I could use a bit of that. Instead I find myself withdrawing into a shell, What I really want is a corner where I can curl up and pull a blanket over my head.

I wish my apartment had a corner, as it is there are none. Actually, there are a lot of corners, but they’re all filled with shit.  It’s discouraging to have to fall back to hiding under my desk, it doesn’t seem to offer the same sense of security as a good old corner.

So I slog through another day waiting for the emotional bounce that’s sure to come, all the while resisting the call of that dark cubbyhole under the desk.

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