My mind is active.
It's not okay.
But I sense moments of expansion.
Mostly, I am comatose.
But sometimes, more frequently, it seems,
I feel a brief intensity.
Like sunshine though tree leaves,
Like closing my eyes and looking directly at the sun.
Fleeting moments of peace.
Fleeting moments of hope that I'm not dead inside.
Maybe the cold is stimulating.
Or maybe it's the solitude.
Or maybe I've hit that low point that brings wicked clarity.