Things are in a state of perpetual heartbreak.
These days it's easy to see it on the faces, in the eyes, emanating from the bodies of innocent bystanders that we pass on the sidewalk. No doubt they are feeling the reciprocation from us, from you, from me.
'Heartbreak' is the only word that I can ascribe to this condition that seems to permeate Los Angeles lately. I'm not going to bother to go online and find the definition and then regurgitate it here. I'm just going to go by how it sounds in my ear right now.
The heartbreak I speak of is rooted and centered right behind your eyes, below your brain and abutting the sinuses and esophagal passage. It's also in the shoulder area surrounding the neck, as well as in the small of the back and the outer ankles.
On a less tangible level, it's an emotional cocktail consisting of indiscriminate parts from different bottles, chased with an acceptance of the situation that somehow doesn't feel right. The thing you cannot ever put a finger on, whatever is on the tip of your tongue, that hunch... it gnaws and nibbles at you like the solution to a riddle veiled behind a mental event horizon, the shoji screen of your soul...
I'm not sad. I'm not depressed. I'm heartbroken, but I'm not in tears. It's not disappointment, it's not being let down... but it is a form of sorrow.
A sense of sadness, but really only a trace, a fraction. Sometimes it feels nice, like a slight buzz.
Nothing happened, nothing brought this on, it's just there. It has been there, and I can feel it in everybody else, whether they are aware of it or not.
I'm going to try and use this for my weekend, as fuel maybe to propel me onward into the unpredictability of everyday living, the way we can be doing something mundane and ordinary and yet accomplishing more than if we ran at it full bore...
My feet aren't touching the ground, but I don't have enough momentum to just fly away. I'm hovering.
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