Sitting in the hotel room

Depression. I don't think I have any kind of clinical depression, but damn, sitting alone in a hotel room, with the sun down, and only memories of friends in my mind, drags me to a weird place.

I remember earlier today, standing on the gravel banks of the Neosho, looking at the clouds weaving across an otherwise sunny blue sky, and I felt the anger and sadness boiling out of me under the pressure from the blazing sun.

I miss my friends, and I miss times that have already passed. I yearn for times that have not yet come.

The present seems quaint and pointless when you are 300 miles from redemption and your other half. Especially in the dark.

So many cool people I've known in my life, who have slipped away, or are slipping away, or are likely to slip away, out of my limited ability to remain in contact. Washed or washing away by time and circumstance and my own inability to stay in touch.

Everything seems unbearable in the dark.