One More Breath

It would be nice to feel as if I was putting words here that meant something, that moved someone to anger, tears, laughter, or lofty ideals. I used to feel that what I wrote was fairly interesting and meaningful, that sometimes, what I was writing was important. Now, I feel I am simply filling up a page so I can keep up the appearance of blogging.

I've stopped taking the St. John's Wort for a bit. I was tired of the red skin and brown blotches that are appearing on my skin and I feel all right. No dark thoughts, no plunges into chilling flashbacks, no uncontrollable weeping or outburst. Just a kind of calm resignation. It feels like glass. Does that make sense? Shiny surface, clear, no streaks and through it a lovey view but hard, impermeable, brittle, and sharp. Right.

So, my words here fill a void. They take up space and make it seem less lonely. I'd like to be philosophical but I can barely spell the word. I've no idea how to actually be it. My idea of profound philosophy is "Life is hard. Then you die." But that has taken on a whole new meaning for me.

It is hard. You do die. The living suffer. It is over with the last breath and there is no sound like that last breath. And every thing you thought was important, that you couldn't live without, that you had to have, do, or see is blown away with that last breath. Every dream, hope, and desire is carried from the room on one breath. Suddenly, breath is more valuable than gold and more powerful than the force of lightening.

Breathe.

One breath separates you from eternity and everything that surrounds you becomes dependent on that vapor that you can't see. The sound of that last breath will haunt you the rest of your life.

One more breath.

Just one more breath.