There comes a time when you must seek your desert. A place where only the sun exists and you can begin to dry away the tears that sit around you like water in a drip pan. You find yourself face to face with the nightmares, the dreams you used to know… they know you.
With each night you peal back the pain like an onion until you wonder why you don’t cry anymore.
They call it healing.
They say give it time.
I contemplate these things as I drink scotch and wine and try to dine the unhappiness away. It is an unhappiness that sits in the sight of depression and no amount of happiness can dispel it.
It is life.