I’m in the moment, longing to be the moment itself. I’m fully engaged in the Being-Me of being me, but being me is not enough. I want to be everything and every person I’m not.
Flawed, fragile, fearful—enough! I want to be right now.
Impossible, I remind myself.
After years of sorrow, I accept the truth of my flawed, fragile, fearful self. After years of mourning, I wake up in the midnight of my life, aware of everything and every person I’m not.
What I need, to let go (of) myself, is touch. I long to touch a body longing to be touched.
Still possible, I remind myself.
Buy Double Meaning here.
Double Meaning Kindle version here.
“If you must write, risk your life to write.” So writes Charles B. Snoad in Double Meaning, a collection of deeply personal poems and essays. Inspired by thinkers like Jean Baudrillard and Albert Camus, Snoad shares his struggles with depression and his love of writing. As the title suggests, double meanings abound and some serious wordplay ensues as Snoad takes us on a journey through darkness into hope.
Also, I created a Kindle version of my second book, Nervous Lethargy, here.
My new book, Double Meaning, will be out soon! I ordered a proof copy that should arrive tomorrow. I already know, however, that I’m going to make some changes, after which I’ll need to order another proof. So, hang tight. I’m still on track for an early November release.
Three holes to fill: I’m lonely, horny and ornery. Or, in clinical terms, I’m depressed, (hypo)manic and anxious. In the end, I’m screwed.
To earn a living you have to quit dreaming. To fall in love you have to get over yourself. Working and dating: two chores I have no energy for.