I feel weak and ill for some part of every day. Done that one. I feel chilled even when the temperature in the room doesn’t warrant it. Done that one, too. I’m reluctant to get up in the morning because I know the day will be uncomfortable. It always is and I’ve said so before. The low light levels of winter continue to depress me, as does the mournful wind, the cold air, and periods of persistent wetness. I dread the onset of snow for historical reasons, one of which I remember making a post about once. And then there are the disturbing dreams which trouble my sleep nearly every night. But I did realise something about them today which might be worth mentioning.
I realised that most of them involve roads. Sometimes they’re major highways which have unusually steep inclines and sudden tight curves to take them over viaducts. Sometimes they’re lonely lanes which I know I have to walk in order to get home which is a long way away. Sometimes they’re complex street layouts in large towns and cities which have been changed so I don’t know how to get from one point to another. Sometimes they’re simple streets in small towns devoid of people, bordered by crumbling buildings and littered with the wind-blown detritus of a lost population. I suppose they’re all interpretations of feeling lost and hampered in an alien environment. What else should I suppose?
It’s all very negative, isn’t it? Occasionally I reminisce about earlier times when the positive was in the ascendant – times of rich experiences, fun, and even high achievement. And then I encourage the presumption that it takes both light and dark to make a complete spirit.
This evening my mind was suddenly invaded by an image of a baby lying on its side with its eyes closed. I couldn’t tell whether it was dead or just sleeping.
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