Post Number 76: An aria. A requiem. A dream
In the midst of packing for my vacation, I wondered which books I should carry. I couldn’t be thoughtless and grab whatever was nearby. Picking vacation reads requires alchemy. It must complement your mental state, your expectations from the vacation, and if you’re not already there, should put you in the mood to unwind. I was feeling very stuck in life; the December air seemed to thicken the sense of stagnation and melancholy around. I woke up sensing the onset of winter and wishing for it to end before it even began. The sun no longer shone through my window with a blinding sharpness. I ached for summer, for warmth. Cloaked under quilts, I reached for my bedside books, opened a page in Patti Smith’s memoir, M Train, and read…
“…a looming continuum of calamitous skies that subtly permeate my entire being. Without noticing, I slip into a light yet lingering malaise. Not a depression, more like a fascination for melancholia, which I turn in my hand as if it were a small planet, streaked in shadow, impossibly blue”
I knew exactly what I wanted to read on my vacation.
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