Black Days


I’ve tried to write two blog posts today, and I’ve given up on both of them. I wanted to write something here daily, but today is dark, and everything I attempt ends up bitter.

I don’t want to be bitter. I want to shine light into the darkness.

But my 2017 started off a bit sadly. And last night I had a dream that I lost one of my dogs in a building that doesn’t even allow dogs. And I assume it’s a metaphor for something I love losing interest in being mine.

And today I had a dark moment that I hope will never return.

This blog isn’t supposed to be a personal diary. But today is not good, and there’s really no point in pretending otherwise.

We all fall on black days.

It will get better. And so will I.

UPDATE: This shook me out of my funk just a little. Poet Adrienne Rich reading her own “What Kind of Times Are These?”

There’s still poetry and art and a 20-year-old girl who used to attempt both. And she’s still much the same, 17 years later. And that’s a comfort.


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