WolfgangB's Journal

I don't understand this.  I feel awful and again I can't identify any triggers.  I feel gutted and I feel like I have the flu without the bronchial/nasal symptoms.  I found it really difficult to move but at least this time I wasn't running into things and falling down.  I can't concentrate.  It reminds me of the dream I had back in Quincy where I was in the grave and the dirt blocked all light and then realized that the loneliness was forever, that no one digs up corpses to keep them company.  It's the same forsaken feeling.  I haven't accepted death yet, I haven't accepted life yet either.  There are some things in that last statement that I need to think about.  I wish I was far in the desert, feeling the wind.  I miss the smell, the light, the feel of the soil and rock.  I want to hear the ravens when everything else is quiet and their voices are clear and hold such power that you expect sound to reveal itself as a physical manifestation.  I miss the rock formations, the clouds, the color of the sky, I miss the sound of pebbles when I walk.  I want to lay down in the sun and feel the wind.  I want to walk for days.  I want to go somewhere where I can scream.  I wish S. wasn't on retreat, I'd like someone to talk with.