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Well, it’s been… something: life? it is what it is? time passing? Well, yes, time has passed. That’s what I’ll say for it.

Experiencing a bout of anhedonia. Crikey, trying to write about it is ridiculous. The best written description I’ve found is in Margo Lanagan’s short story collection, Red Spikes, from the short story “Under Hell, Over Heaven” page 104:

“The snatches of music, the humming of crystal, the tang of harp strings, the celestial harmonies sung by voices so human, so joyous…
“But then the Gate had closed and silenced the music. Leah had run the caught phrase through her mind several times and it had fallen dead, all its brilliance and mystery and beauty gone, a string of notes as bland and gray-green as the clothes she wore. …
“One needed nothing here, not food or drink or love–but a glimpse of Heaven woke a hunger, a hunger to hunger again, to long for something, anything, and have that longing satisfied, to feel any feeling but this bland resignation, this hopeless doggedness, this pointless processing of oneself forward through unmarked, unmemorable time. Oh, and then the hunger went, and left you frowning, trying to fathom how you could have felt as strongly as that about anything.”

Margo Lanagan interviewed in Weird Fiction Review, interviewed by Jeff Vandermeer in Clarkesworld Magazine, also in Cosmos Magazine.

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