In an effort to follow my therapist’s directionsand clear some of the filth from the apartment
I finally tossed the ancient copy of The Bell Jar
that I never read.
I’d tried it decades ago, got maybe ten pages into it.
It just didn’t stick.
Lots of books in similar states got the axe as well.
I’m trying to live a little bit lighter now.

Before the excess weight was lifted from my shelf,
I had been a bit darker.
More corrupted corners of the apartment
filled with piles that could not be occupied
as they were filled with god knows what.
There are still dozens of those,
but they’re diminished – a bit.

While living that slovenly life,
it is important to state that
I WAS NOT SUICIDAL.
However, I was not prepared to stick around
for all that long.
With the inheritance I would receive
when my mother eventually passes,
I figured I’d have enough to live off of
for a little while, and when that ran out,
so would I.
I’d have a good run, and then I could just
peter out.
I didn’t have details. I just figured that without funds
our capitalist system wouldn’t have a way to finance my survival,
so my end would sort of take care of itself.

Anyway, my outlook improved.
The days got sunnier,
I lost some weight,
I cleaned up my apartment,
I started writing some more
and everything turned around.
Maybe my medication changed.

In retrospect,
it’s almost certain my medication changed.
My mood is somewhere else entirely,
and my passive state has passed.
I’m somewhere else again,
looking out for places to go,
things to do,
and ways to engage
with the world around me.
How about you?