It’s Friday night, 7 PM. I’m sitting here alone. The cat is sleeping in the chair opposite me. I have a few candles burning, a few lights on here and there, the new curtains are pulled tight and it is dark, dark, dark outside. No stars, just heavy rain and wind. That wind is coming in gusts that blow around the corner of the house and rattle the windows. At least I’m not under six feet of snow. I can’t even imagine six feet of snow or what I would do if my house was buried under mountains of snow.
Our states mountains are getting snow though, so much in fact that the two main roads over the Cascades are in a constant state of flux, being opened to traffic at one moment, then closed the next. It only took about two hours for enough snow to cause havoc.
I’ve started and stopped any number of posts in the last few days. I get what I believe to be an inspiration for some topic. then find myself either changing my mind or simply unable to gather my thoughts beyond one or two sentences. Is it possible to simply stop having opinions, to simply stop having an ability to form coherent thoughts, to literally have nothing to say? That’s about the only way I can describe this odd malaise I seem to be under when it comes to writing just now. I just sort of don’t care, nor do I want to take the time to care, or think, or really write much about anything.
If I was an artist I would depict my head as an outline with nothing inside the lines save for stark white canvas. Perhaps there would be a tiny trap door somewhere near the base of my skull, sitting just slightly ajar, with the hint that once there were words, but now only faint ghost images are visible if you look really closely at the canvas from the side, in just the right light, at just the right angle and quickly before those remnants are gone as well. Perhaps something like this, only not so bold.
I don’t feel bold at all, or even that defined. Simple black and white verging into gray and slightly translucent as if my entire being was slowly fading. A shadow of my former self…isn’t that how the saying goes.
I hope something of value creeps back in there soon, some tangible thought process ignites and bursts forth. I’d settle for a teeny, tiny spark even. Right now I got nothin…