some days I feel as if I'm sitting in sand. the universe is sand. it seeps through my fingers. the mental health worker came today, to see one of our incarcerated and disturbed individuals, and he and I talked about suicide. he's against it. he's a mental health worker. I suppose he has to be. I didn't tell him that there are days I understand. the universe is sand. everyone who ever lived before a hundred or so years ago is dead now. I put purge dates on files that someone will throw away after I'm dead. it's funny, this year the neverending darkness didn't get to me, but I'm having trouble dealing with the eternal light. at 2am you could still read a book outside, if you so desired.

the other night I had a dream that I was trying to escort a polar bear through town, and stop it from eating people. my friend Patti says that means I feel responsible for everyone in town. what a scary thought.

anyway. please know that I often get like this. and it passes. just, I don't always feel like talking...