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Chop Water, Carry Wood
Oct. 17th, 2025 09:49 amSeasonal affective disorder has begun seeping in through whatever spots in my psyche the day's activities have worn thin.
Yesterday, I spent a big chunk of the afternoon wanting to weep hysterically.
It got so intense that I finally went out tromping in the middle of the afternoon—which is Not Good because I find it very difficult to recalibrate and get back to Useful Work after I exercise.
What did I want to weep about? Oh, you know. The usual. The meaninglessness of all human life. The inevitability of human pain. The delusion all 8.142 billion humans share—I am special, I am special. The reality that none of us are any more special than any other polyp in the vast coral reef and all our strange, mostly endocrine-modulated behaviors are useless flux, this side of random.
Most years, I'm able to keep the SAD at bay by just remaining stoned out of my gourd till February.
This year, I can't really do that because I need a clear head to complete everything I have to do.
Creativity helps. Because imagination does reinforce one's unique vision—even if all you can see are those limestone-like exoskeletons that make up the dizzyingly immense reef where all those other polyps have died or are dying.
It is the blight that man was born for...
Like they say. Chop water, carry wood. Keep calm and carry on.
Yesterday, I spent a big chunk of the afternoon wanting to weep hysterically.
It got so intense that I finally went out tromping in the middle of the afternoon—which is Not Good because I find it very difficult to recalibrate and get back to Useful Work after I exercise.
What did I want to weep about? Oh, you know. The usual. The meaninglessness of all human life. The inevitability of human pain. The delusion all 8.142 billion humans share—I am special, I am special. The reality that none of us are any more special than any other polyp in the vast coral reef and all our strange, mostly endocrine-modulated behaviors are useless flux, this side of random.
Most years, I'm able to keep the SAD at bay by just remaining stoned out of my gourd till February.
This year, I can't really do that because I need a clear head to complete everything I have to do.
Creativity helps. Because imagination does reinforce one's unique vision—even if all you can see are those limestone-like exoskeletons that make up the dizzyingly immense reef where all those other polyps have died or are dying.
It is the blight that man was born for...
Like they say. Chop water, carry wood. Keep calm and carry on.
