A dark cloud has followed me all day.
But it’s worse than that. It’s more like a dark monster — spewing its foul hot breath down my neck — just waiting for its chance to devour me.
I’ve come to a restaurant where I haven’t been for a long time. I didn’t really want to deal with anyone I know, but I felt too restless to go home. I’m sitting next to a huge window with a view of a beautiful sunset on the horizon, but I don’t even feel like walking outside to take a photo.
The glorious red sky doesn’t match the blackness I feel inside.
It’s not depression that I feel. This sort of darkness is different. It’s more like hopelessness. It’s the feeling that I’ve been running a race — pushing toward the prize I needed with all my heart — and then finding that I’ve been running in a big circle. It’s the feeling that my time has been wasted. That I’ll never have what I’ve been chasing.
When I woke up this morning, I remembered a dream — a vivid night drama that had awakened me in the wee hours and made me feel terribly alone.

If you participate in sham of voting, you’re responsible for what it creates
How could we take responsibility but avoid self-destructive shame?
There’s magic in the dark solitude and quiet stillness after midnight
Two sets of rules: One for the public and a very different set for police
Smart people will flee big cities before death, disease take over
When Demopublicans and Republicrats clash, you lose
What if I hadn’t been afraid to follow Paul Finebaum’s advice 20 years ago?
If politics sends you into a rage, is it really a good use of your time?
When strangers tell us things we want to hear, we want to believe