Paradise Lost

Waking on Sunday morning. My dreams forgotten, though I think one at least concerned The Return of the King, which I wish I still had; I would watch it now.

I fell asleep last night reading a hundred-year-old copy of Paradise Lost, which I am enjoying greatly. Thus far Satan and I have woken in the lake of fire; groped our way ashore to call forth our legions of devils; built the city of Pandaemonium; and now we are making our way through the realms of Night towards new-formed earth, as the Father and the Son look down and debate their course of action.

I woke in sorrow and anger, as I do most mornings. I think I have some ideas as to why. When we wake, we wake depleted. In sleep we process emotions, which costs B vitamins, B vitamins that cannot be stored in fat and must be replenished each morning. In addition the anti-depressant I have been taking will have thoroughly run its course by the next day. It is a struggle to get out of bed, but rising I take a pill, a vitamin, chug some superfood, some soy-protein drink: now I feel better.

**

Hours later.

I just returned from a walk, read Milton for a bit. Ate some almonds, which is new: I haven't been able to get anything but liquid down for the last few days, the consequence, probably, of this new drug I am taking.

Thoughts:

The trouble with running from your demons is, they're always there waiting when you arrive.

My hair was where I kept my power. And it was the embodiment of my past. I pictured my past falling away with it, piece by piece. I looked in the mirror and was weak.

I need to be weak.

I am weak. Even wretched.

Learn to let go.

When you let go of everything, you can begin to .

When you let go of everything, you can begin--

When you let go of everything, you can begin.

Just let go.