I am regressing now. Last week and the week before I walked and walked. I had never been happier.
My body felt good, the exercise framing my mood, my work. It was glorious, though I nearly died in front of a train.
Even that could not destroy my energy. I'd had a close call, but I felt alive, perhaps more than usual. I'd survived that one fated moment to live for the days that remain.
Now this. I am home-bound, the work is leveling off, my spirit waning.
I can't walk in this rain.
I feel nothing more than a desire to nap.
I'm trying once more to read lines from "The Project." All I want is tone sense, something to latch onto.
Everything is garbled. I can't speak under these conditions. I can't think.
The rain has made me very tired.
Come to me, July! I need you!
TS
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