Wading, Waiting

I am depressed too often these days. Or rather, moments of depression rise up and crest, and then they subside until the next one arrives. A cursory look through the archive of my writing will show that I have used this wave, this tide, this movement of water metaphor, time and time again. I come back to it, and the cycle of language continues on.

I once told Colin that if I were a Pokémon trainer, I’d definitely train fire types. He laughed, and said, No, you’re obsessed with the sea. Water all the way.

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