The cold dark winter has overwhelmed me. I am in a deep depression and can't fight my way out. I meant to begin this blog immediately after opening my Red Room account, but soon after doing that I was struck down with this horrible depression. The cold and dark work on me like this. I should not live north of Key West. I am a delicate flower and in need of ambient nurture, not darkness and freezing winds and the threat of impersonal frost bite.
I have been mostly sleeping for two weeks, and when I sleep I dream of war. Horrible dreams of beasts in human form who feed upon the act of inflicting studied agony, as impersonal as God's frost bite, upon on other weaker beasts, also in human form, whose palpable fear feeds the need of the attackers and thereby invites the inflictions, and it is all an ugly other wordly phantasm, and sometimes, in my dreams, I am the inflictor of exquisite impersonal agony and sometimes I am the weaker beast. If they draft me for war again, I will not go, and I cannot in good faith recommend war to others.