No need to panic. No need to cry. No need to worry, either. But today is a depression day. Actually, this whole week has been like that. I didn't want to get out of bed today. I woke up at 6:00 and my fantasy is that I can somehow become a morning person. But, I never want to leave my dreams. I fell back to sleep and woke up again at 8:00, but still couldn't get out of bed. I'd spent the night before writing about guns and rage and anger on Facebook, trying to get conversations going where people can at least acknowledge there is a problem. It seems that's a role I can play, or want to play. But then I wake up, and I don't believe in myself. I dread that I said awful things and that I'm going to be punished for voicing an opinion. I stay in bed and don't want my day to begin because I dread bad news and notifications of needs for corrections and other things that bring me a great deal of stress. I'm in a cycle, I know this. If I ha
Striking down the mundane and dastardly while retaining a certain obscure turn of phrase, denoting something elusive yet concrete.