I don’t mean that the day itself is depressing. Today, for example, the sky is a perfect blue and the greenery out the window is lush. As Sekhnet’s mother used to say, about someone who was kind to her “she couldn’t have been nicer!”. Today, for example, really couldn’t be nicer.
Still, drinking my coffee, looking at the headlines, considering various things on my mind that weigh on my life (seeming estrangement from certain loved ones, for example) — and without the balm of work (and pay — pay is not to be sneezed at) to otherwise occupy the sullen mind– I feel a bit of depression well up, like the stomach acid I’m churning with this strong black coffee on an empty stomach. I know what you’re thinking: Christ, man, have a piece of toast with that coffee– or better yet, some steel cut oatmeal.
I sip the slightly bitter (OK, bitter) brew and consider things about my life that are not quite right. There is no bot that can help me today, certainly not at the moment. If suddenly 10,000 people read one of these posts today I’d feel a surge of transient hope. After all, if your “platform” attracts a million eyeballs a week, chances are you can get a book deal, since publishers look at that when considering who to give a contract to. If you get a book deal you can, you know, get an advance to write the book. Paid! We are trained that way, to react to positive reinforcement (and money is that), one reason our LIKE/LOL culture is so seductive.
In the relative silence of this room where I type, the only real sound my fingers clattering on the keys, it is easy to imagine the best, and the worst. Certain days are just depressing– fact of life. On those days it’s much easier to imagine the worst than the best. Trying times, yo.