anhedonia nr i really feel like writing something but i'm kinda blank these days. blank blankety blerg. so how about i write about nothing? my hair is cool. it has streaks of pink and purple and green and whatever else it's deciding to do. the thunder has been going on for six hours. eating dinner outside made for an interesting mood, but i'm still not as good anymore at pretending to be interested in the small talk or Bachelor in Paradise talk. my drums are Taye, and i never knew that was a Canadian brand until an American drummer told me he'd never heard of it and asked if it was. i can't find my cool tenor ukulele with a pickup, and this confuses me because i haven't brought it anywhere in a long time. i have a lot of books to read, including two new novels by local authors i know and like. shrug. 210907 ... nr i wonder if depression can more likely present as anhedonia in people who are more avoidant. shrug again! 210907 ... raze i haven't gone through what you have, so i can only speak from my own experience, but when i was at my most depressed the joy seemed to leave everything — even making music, when that's always been my lifeline. it was hard to grapple with the idea that i didn't want to do the thing that's defined who i am for most of my life, and unsettling to not know if or when it would change. i think when you lose someone you love, who's been such a pivotal part of your life, sometimes the love you feel for other things seems to go with them. but it's still there. it just takes time for the heart to heal enough so you can feel that love again. hugs to you, eternal keeper of the smoo. 210908 ... tender square i went through a pretty acute case of creative depression for the better half of 2020 when my mother in law was dying and my sisters were slowly killing themselves. i wish i could tell you that it gets better nr, but it’s impossible to have any awareness of that as you’re living through it. i'm holding you in my thoughts. i came across this rumi poem, and figured i’d post it in case you, or anyone else here, felt they needed it today: this being human is a guest house. every morning a new arrival. a joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. welcome and attend them all: even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. he may be clearing you out for some new delight. 210909 ... nr thank you raze. i hope to get some of the smoo and footstools back. thank you tender_square. i'm sorry you had to deal with that, and thank you for posting that poem — i'm not too familiar with rumi. also, i'm loving your writing! she was just such a part of my life that i often didn't even realize. even when we didn't talk as much, i kind of took for granted that she'd always be available. for that reason i probably didn't grow up as much as i should've, and it seems now i need to. growing up as an adult is hard and scary. 210909 ... tender square thank you nr. i'm sorry you're going through what you are, too. and thank you for the kind words about the writing. 210909 what's it to you? who go blather from