The Well
My first half of the year was uneventful. I cannot remember what I was up from January-May. No black holes, no bright sparks. Things only started picking up last June. I went to a new beat, saw old friends, made new ones. Was diagnosed with NVLD, and possibly AS. Fell in love with a city. Got a training scholarship. Went backpacking in Europe. Liked a boy. Un-liked a boy. Berlin-Prague-Dresden. Was told by somebody that my side of the conversation gives him “nosebleed.” But he still would not stop talking to me. Missed a lot of people. Became angrier, more impatient. Yelled at a lot of cab drivers. Had an almost-accident with an oven. Fell in love with John Ajvide Lindqvist and Robin Hobb. Had taken to wearing skirts and tights. Enjoyed autumn and the changing of leaves. Had one tennis lesson. Re-discovered Trashcan Sinatras and The Pearlfishers. Went headlong with new obsessions. Made unsolicited compilations. Threw away a lot of clothes. Gave a lot of books. And now, it's January again. I take a deep breath. Always, the first month of the year makes me feel like I’m peering down into a deep, black well.
To close, a haiku by Kobayashi Issa:
New Year’s Day -
Everything is in blossom!
I feel just about average.