Winter Memories and a Saturday

A light December snow comes overnight. Relative to the last few days it is cold. And it is windy. The wind blows the snow into thin slices around the city, not banks or a coating on the ground but thin slices of thread spilling among the city consistently. The latte I drink in this afternoon is doing nothing for me and it brings up a hate I haven’t felt in sometime. In a few days it’ll be a new decade and another year passes in my life. I am unhappy and lost between decisions. I’ve heard it labeled as a paralysis. Sartre said that humanity is cursed to be free. I didn’t understand that in high school when I first heard it but now I am getting the picture. A cyclist goes by. His legs moved in systematic lines, smooth and clicking and settling into a sustainable tempo, at least for the two moments that I saw him. Watching him ride by gave me a moment of detachment from the anxiety of this last week. My mind splits from topic to topic and anxiety to bliss and tense to tense, as do my sentences. I write like I think. And I appreciate you taking the time and attention to get this far. It’s going to rain a bit this afternoon. I need to finish this drink and go exert myself to small talk and customer service until I get drunk enough to not care. Another Saturday of not wanting to drink but seemingly it being the only option for happiness right now. Fuck it.