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I've been desperately hoping for rain for weeks and the rain keeps avoiding us or dissipating just before it reaches us or ...
Honestly that whole thing -- promise of rain, no rain -- feels like it's a good metaphor for a lot of things right now, but I'm too flat and too dead to articulate exactly how.
Summer sucks and this summer sucks and I would like off this rodeo, please. Or if I can't get off, I'd like a bit of ability to make something while I'm stuck on it. I've been flailing around and trying but I don't feel like I'm getting very far.
The big blue room is terrible and the news is terrible and imaginary things and fandoms and videogames are also terrible.
I'm at the point where trying to find something in a (non-writing) hobby or writing or anything is a cross between desperation and feeling both loss and empty.
Blah.