I’m always fascinated by the human capacity to be retarded. I pride myself on being logical and scientific, yet I can’t help but become very morbid as the trees become bare in November. The winter months clog my heart, and it isn’t about the cold weather or the overcast skies. It’s about an underlying feeling that forces me to constantly expect the worst.
And November was crap. My mind felt like it was going to collapse under the pressure of thoughts about Gaza, Syria, and the increasing fuel prices in Jordan. Death. Blood. Hunger.
Keep your arms tightly around your chest. Don’t stop bracing yourself. Cigarette after cigarette after cigarette. There are still a few more months, then the sun will shine again.
Can you really archive time?