POSTER CHILD FOR THOSE DEPRESSION COMMERCIALS?

Hot and Dry, Hot and Dry ...  

I am bored with this weather.  I am bored with this city.  Re-run is bored with this city.  I feel like there is a pissed off little girl scratching at my insides to get out... GET OUT!!!  

POSTER CHILD FOR THOSE DEPRESSION COMMERCIALS?: childhood blurring

My friend told me that I was a “Poster child for those commercials”... You know the commercials they show on T.V. to determine whether you are depressed or not.  Maybe I am depressed.  Maybe, just maybe we are all depressed on some level or another at this point.  Maybe I am even Manic. I thought I had kicked this dark-goth like cloud out of orbit.  What gives?!  And why is she suddenly picking up on this thing?  I am torn between really listening to what she has to say and having something to say about her, it, this thing.

My own skin has become uncomfortable.  

Everyone has always liked being around me.  I was always the one they would call when they were down or having problems.  I did everything I could and I liked being that way.  But now I can’t help feeling like there is no room for me to be sad... no space for me to be down.  When I do...  it lets all of them down and that kills me.  I am the one who set it up like this though... not them!  I proclaimed myself “kind and nurturing”.  I wrapped myself in this wholesome identity so tight. Now I can’t even begin to tell you who I am.  I only have ideas of who I have been and who I am suppose to become, nothing more.... JUST IDEAS. I refused to express sadness and chose to laugh about tragedy, especially my own.

I feel like a bird in an egg that could crack any day.  

POSTER CHILD: the spinning of my "mitote"

I am a Dali sketch never published.  I am a reflection behind years of smoke.  I cannot even see myself.  There is no way I could even begin to explain myself to anyone.  On top of that, I’m not sure if explaining myself should be a goal in itself.  My little brother said that we are all born selfish.  It was a philosophy in which I argued passionately against.  Not until now have I looked at it differently and considered that he may have been right.  






JON-MICHAEL, MAYBE YOU WERE RIGHT!