It’s not like anyone around Provo reads these things anyway, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it. I’ve been a little depressed lately.

There’s no good reason – just a feeling that’s crept over me.

I just want to play my guitar. I want to play that tune I still haven’t thought of words for. One day they’ll just come to me if I keep playing long enough.

I want someone to come over and talk to me and listen to me. I want them to hear what I’m saying and understand what I’m not. But no one has that kind of time and I can’t fit myself into a sound bite.

I don’t want to read another textbook. I don’t want to write another paper. I don’t want to stand in the corner of my room for hours watching print heads charge and retreat over 100% jersey knit cotton.

So I’ll do nothing but hit refresh while waiting for life to make contact with me. All this time with nothing to show for it stacks up for me to be held accountable for.

Thank you, to whoever left that bucket of candy on my doorstep. I know it wasn’t for me alone, but I felt loved.
Thank you, Stephanie, Carrie, and Cory, for helping me break the routine I’ve carved out for myself.
Thank you, Dad (and whoever else), for sending that box of mail just so you could share your cookies.

Thank you.

Filed under: Archive