The long walk

It’s 16 degrees outside. Probably colder now that the sun’s set has left a black oil spot through the window. I don’t want to go out which is maybe why I’m lingering longer at work than I normally do. There’s not any snow, just ice on the air.

There’s been more background noise today than normal. TV’s blaring the news I don’t want to hear, teleconferences in a room without doors. The woman on the other end was hacking her lungs out trying to sell web development software or something like that. ┬áIt’s hard to concentrate with all these other voices that aren’t mine. I’m still searching for something that sounds like me. I can feel a tickle in my lungs again and wonder if I really ever did get over the bronchitis I’m convinced I had and didn’t see a doctor for. I’m not really sick, I’m not really sick, my body can take care of it on its own. Maybe it’s the cold cold weather.

The influence of all that weaves itself outside of me – I struggle with what to accept and what to refuse.

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