Anhedonia

Slowly the world recedes from me. Desire, commitments, interests - one moment I am scrambling to stuff as many as possible into the inadequate days. Now, the days are long. Even the sun sets later - a smirk, a grain of salt in my wound. But it isn't a wound, or at the least does not involve pain. Emptiness grows in emptiness, expands inward toward a smaller and more complete nothingness.