I woke up feeling so sad today . . . perhaps it was the summer solstice, or some dark force even greater than that, but I did not want to do anything, and I never bothered to turn on any lights in my apartment. Instead I covered the windows and lit and burned candles. I made a rare daytime appearance in my neighborhood-for about fifteen minutes, signing autographs along the way, to retrieve a package from the späti one block over, and once I had it in hand (the box was stupidly enormous despite only containing a few dishes), I skulked back to the darkness of my high tower. It was warm out and everyone was sitting down at cafes and walking through the cathedral square, and on and on, but I wanted nothing to do with it today. I was unfit to participate in human society just then. Hah! This only added to my sorrow.

Back upstairs, I spent hours sitting around reading or lying on my couch staring at the ceiling until I felt this overwhelming sensation to sleep, as if lulled by a sorcerer. I reckon it was a defense mechanism issued by my brain to stop it from overheating. If I kept on thinking I would really begin to do myself real harm. I was so sad I needed to quit the world for a few hours. I curled up in the center of my bed and used my robe as a blanket. And upon waking again around midnight I made dinner and took a bath and turned on my galaxy light and watched two movies. Now it is six in the morning and I suppose I will sleep again. I don’t feel any better than I did when I first opened my eyes today. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll feel different . . .

Also: it’s a shame because I love the solstice. I was asleep for most of it, or else hidden behind blackout curtains. The solstice, by the way, is definitely better than the equinox. I mean, duh . . .