Maybe you’ve noticed. Maybe you haven’t. But I haven’t been posting much. Just firing up the browser and logging in seems like more work than I can bear. I’m exhausted. I suck. I’ve lost my bearings…sliding off the trail into a slippery slough of late bills and bad karma.
Here it is, the opening season of the vernal equinox and I feel like I’m trapped in the dead of winter.
Perlerorneq. That’s what John Jerome calls it. Channeling Barry Lopez from Arctic Dreams
…the word means to feel “the weight of life.” To look ahead to all that must be accomplished and to retreat to the present feeling defeated, weary before starting, a core of anger, a miserable sadness. It is to be “sick of life” a man named Imina told Malaurie. The victim tears fitfully at his clothing. A woman begins aimlessly slashing at things in the iglu with her knife. A person runs half naked into the bitter freezing night, screaming out at the village, eating the shit of dogs. Eventually the person is calmed by others in the family, with great compassion, and helped to sleep. Perlerorneq.
There is no antidote to this feeling. No course of action except to pay a few overdue bills with the last money remaining and dial into The Risky Biscuit Hayseed Hoot and Get Some Ed in Your Head.