"Deep breaths, sweetie." This is what I say to my cat, Beans, as she struggles with an upcoming hairball that obstructs her breathing. I say this, and set an example with my own breath. Good thing, because I've been on a chaotic ride with my emotions today. I hate rides. This kind is particularly scary because I don't get to tell myself that it'll be over in a few minutes. That I won't have to endure it again. To do so--to say that--would be cruel. Being honest is tough, but necessary, and lying is often more exhausting anyway. But, sometimes, the truth is just so distasteful--so unsatisfying.
Funny, lately I've almost exclusively been reading and writing nonfiction. Maybe that's why I've been so depressed.
Having said that, I'm not sure that picking up my copy of Dune or revisiting my character notes/story ideas would be of much help. Then again, you never know. At least it's something different. Maybe that's what's been missing...change. Movement. Speaking of movement, it's probably time I get off the couch.
As for Beans, as usual, she sets an example by doing what she needs to do for herself at a given moment. Right now, that means curling up in a ball and slowing her breathing, while listening to relaxing music.
Until next time, here is some music. Some Mascis. Beans approves.
I'm finally doing it--pulling my insides out and splattering them around for all to see. Here we go!