Garbage

This is immensely disjointed, but that’s kind of how my thought processes are these days.

“Ah, there you are. I thought you might have left, but I knew deep down you hadn’t.” The dogs sleeping in the darkened corners of the trailer, and something unseen stirring in the shadows under the door. “I knew you couldn’t leave me alone for long.” The thing rustles again behind the door gaining strength.

***

I’ve been having troubles thinking clearly lately, to the point that even during everyday conversations I stumble over my words. Listeners watch me and wait as I untie my tongue. I sit to write but there’s nothing there. I pick up my laptop to do something on the internet, but I can’t think of anything I care to look for or research. I have to drive to ride my bike now, and who can be bothered to do that. If it weren’t for the manual tasks around the camp that need to be taken care of I wouldn’t have anything. Sleep seems like a perpetually good thing to do, or collapsing into the fetal position in the woods, my arms wrapped around my knees. That would be nice too.

Darkness comes early now in late October, and with the darkness comes the cold and we let those two things together force us inside in the evenings.