#230

February ends, and I am depressed. Glad that February is ending, always a difficult and gruesome month; glad that I am fortunate enough to be alive and healthy when death and disease seem to dominate our shared existence; glad to bear witness to these exceptionally interesting times, to have work to go to, love to live in, cats to feed, etc. The light of the world shines on me and I am thankful, and have happiness, yet am depressed, and stick to the shadows and the emptiest spaces whenever possible.

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depressed, depressed, we do our best, 

depressed, depressed, we take our tests, 

depressed, depressed, we get what we get and we get what we get 

and we try to take care of our love and our pets. 

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So shit ain't candy and fireworks all the time. Sometimes a dead squirrel faceup under a skeletal bush by the sidewalk is one thing, and sometimes it's another, speaking in terms of what the self tells itself about what it is experiencing, what symbols are drawn up and what conclusions are written in. Sometimes it's hard to have fun getting through any of the minutes and actions that make up a whole-ass day and night. 

Trite, yes, but sometimes how shitty you feel from smoking too many cigarettes is the only way you can feel and go on living at the same time.

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Best part of being depressed is the guilt it brings on. Indeed, how dare I even bring it up. Pointless.

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Let's see what March brings.

--JL