lincoln national park new mexico
an old and close friend and i had dinner together a couple of weeks ago and talked about, in a way that we never had, that we think about suicide all the time. his life is truly existentially and materially difficult and he is wondering how much more he can or should bear. i promised my family i would never do it so the thought just sits like a little bat in the back of mind. but our conversation brought these feelings to the fore again. today i went for a hike in the desert alone. it was like nothing i had ever experienced. cicadas were everywhere. it was as loud as merzbow. they kept hitting me in the face and screaming and buzzing. then it would be totally silent. along the path there was a hill that i was gripped with terror not to cross. i turned around and as i trudged back to the van, it made me giggle idiotically to myself, sweat running down into my eyes, that in a primordial way i did not want to be killed by a cougar or rattle snake even though i imagine being in control of letting go of my life everyday.