Depression... It's a mother fucker
The sick thing about being depressed is that I know there's no reason to feel this way. I know what tips me over shouldn't tip me over but it does. I know there are things I can do to make myself feel a little better but I can't or won't do them. The fucked up thing about being depressed is that I can't watch certain movies, listen to certain music, think about certain things, or spend too much time alone. I don't have time to go to the doc and get myself fixed up. I've got a nice chunk of money in the mail somewhere, hopefully when that gets here I can afford to take a day off work and visit the doc. On the other hand, it’s good I’m broke right now or I would probably go on a senseless spending spree. I'm not going to sleep tonight and I have a mid-term tomorrow. In the words of Christopher Walken, "A man can be an artist in anything. In food, whatever… It depends on how good he is at it." Can a man be an artist at being depressed? In the words of my best friend, "This sucks the balls".
