01122019

The first snowfall of the year, and with it, the arrival of December. For some reason, lying in my bed just looking up at the ceiling, I was overcome with a sudden vision of spring which both seemed like so long ago yet not so far away at the same time. The past few months have been permeated with a particular creeping sense of melancholy whose origins I can’t quite place, and which itself remains teleologically elusive. I can’t tell if something’s just a little bit off in my life, or if it’s something beyond my control… it’s frustrating, to say the least, especially since it seems to be affecting my overall productivity pretty significantly, in ways I have difficulty articulating, let alone defining.