For two days I have had the sensation that there is something that I want to say and that I don’t know what it is. I hunt for it. I send my feelers out into space looking for some kind of sign. No luck.

I am not one who is often caught with nothing to say. I’ve said so much that I can barely manage the stacks of paper, or remember what is in them. I usually have something to say, but not right now. The great quiet fills me just now, and that should be enough, but it isn’t. I never could leave well enough alone.

For two days I have had the sensation that there is something that I want to say…

I feel a great evil, a deep darkness that prowls around the corners of the houses and waits in the shadows of our minds for the perfect moment to strike. But is that what I wanted to say, the thing that has haunted me for days? I don’t know. Maybe not.

There is so much anger in people – I’m not surprised that mayhem breaks out, and yet it must be resisted. We can’t give into that. I strive for kindness. That’s the way I want to be, but I don’t always succeed. That streak of evil is in me too. I need to be honest about this. It runs in me like a poison spring and no amount of exorcism seems to take it away.

For two days I have had the sensation that there is something that I want to say…

Life is very short. I hope you’ve figured this out by now, but if not, listen. Life is very short. It goes by in a blur: school, marriage, children, career – like a flash, and then you’re old and you’re going like, “What the fuck?”

Life is very long. Minutes turn to hours. Perhaps there is pain that won’t go away, or simply fear. Perhaps there is something lost that can never be regained, but our minds turn it over and over again, knowing full well that it can never be recaptured. The sense of loss must be managed or it will become overwhelming.

For two days I have had the sensation that there is something that I want to say…

It’s cold, really cold, like 27° which is chilly for this Texas boy. I like to go outside to smoke cigarettes but it’s hard to stay out very long. Even the cat, who loves to prowl all night, is curled up at my feet, staying warm. Whiskey takes the chill off the night, but you have to remember that it’s just a thing in your mind, and it’s actually still cold as fuck.

We are blessed with warmth and heat and fire. Not everyone is. We have worked hard and planned so today we have heat and we don’t have to worry about paying for it – forty years of work for a furnace. The wind is biting. It will freeze your eyeballs over. I am grateful for the furnace. The whole house is built around it.

For two days I have had the sensation that there is something that I want to say…

There is an evil spirit in the house. He cuts my skin when I’m sleeping. I could make him go away. I have that power, but I don’t use it. I know he wants to talk to me but I haven’t let him yet. I’m just not really into his number. I am sure I annoy him – I annoy a lot of people. Take a number and get in line. I wonder if he’s just lonely, or if he really has something to say.

The cat has become very protective. She leans against my foot and won’t let me move. She can see things I can’t. I know this and I pay attention when she seems to be studying a piece of empty space. She is a witch cat. She can make amazing jumps and seem to be flying. She is relaxed now, not on alert or tense. I guess the spooks aren’t here tonight.

For two days I have had the sensation that there is something that I want to say…



Syd Weedon
2/27/2923