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I have a sadness in me. It’s sitting solidly, fist-sized right below my diaphragm. I don’t know where it came from and that makes me even sadder. The last few days I have been near the edge of tears many times. I don’t know why, I don’t know why… Eric makes me upset, but it isn’t him. He’s just being himself and my skin is too thin to take it at this moment. It’s in these times that I know, intellectually, that it’s just chemicals in my brain, out of kilter. But what, what to put it right? Food and sex are obvious short-term answers. But I want it out of me. It’s like a presence. Like that picture of the sleeping woman with the demon on her chest. I want to push it off, out. A high mountain would be nice. Just go up and shout until I’m hoarse, until my throat bleeds. Maybe that would be enough.

Author:

Writer, publisher. Hobbies include reading, studying magic & illusions from a historical/theoretical perspective, and playing ultimate frisbee.

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