- belaboring the whole of me with a force that I've found only winter to possess.
Picture some somethingness. Any something you like.
Then picture a sheet of nothingness engulfing the entire scene. Or a dense fog coming to swallow it all up.
Picture what it looks like when you drop dark food coloring into water. Or a steeping tea bag that steeps and steeps until it's steeped all over everything that once was until it all becomes murky and dark.
That's the only way I know how to describe the state of my inner space this past winter. Which isn't unusual. But the extent of it was.
In the dialogue of my life, the question of "what's wrong?" followed by the answer of "I don't know" became outrageously overused.