Days like these – gray, October, rainy, windy – magnify facts I’d like to ignore. The fact that I’m bumming again. How my art is ebbing away. How behind I am in everything. Or how much of who I am has already disappeared. How useless I feel. I fight off panic attacks. I hold up a mirror and inspect my face, to make sure I’m not disappearing. I curl up on the couch with my favourite blanket, clutching my robot to make me feel better. The lights are off, the day is ending, I’m all alone, and there’s nothing else to do but watch the world pass me by. Nothing else to do but wonder where I really am.
