I'm sitting here trying to pen my thoughts while wondering
why it is I try to coat my words and sentences into
something not only meaningful but sweet to the ear like a
most harmonic dissonance. I am truly and utterly depressed,
so what makes me want to take this feeling of solitude and
sadness and mold it into something that people might
appreciate? Doing this it looks like I have taken a
hideously shaped rock and turned it into something more
bearable to look at. It makes things a lot easier if you see
it as a process. Inside I feel like screaming. Actually,
inside I am screaming and if I actually do shout out this
feeling that I so depend on it might actually end. I don't
know why I don't want it to end. This scream leaves my
stomach through my fingertips instead of my mouth turning it
to something I can try to understand and analyze, thus,
helping me get deeper into it. I know while I write that I
am not going to over dramatize my feeling by adding the
kitsch symbol of endless emptiness. Saying I have nothing
simply isn't true. I have many friends, partially sane
family and some other things a normal mind desires. Yet this
is still something I feel and can't, or would rather not,
let go of. So why is it really that I am sitting here
writing down my depression as art? Why is it that I hang up
something I would never share in regular conversation for
everybody to see? I could only guess coating this dreadful
piece into ink will be far easier to see than looking at it
as it really is; plain simple depression which does not make
me any more special than anyone else. Not everybody can take
their feelings in other forms as in writing, drawing or
composing and up until now I have pitied them. But are they
not braver beings than I to take what comes along as is
instead of being hesitant to look while turning into
something else? Maybe they do not lack imagination but, in
fact, have a better prospective of life?
This is not a story or a lecture of any kind. Nor is it a
suicide note or ponder. These are just my thoughts that have
come late at night with a usual dose of midnight depression
trying to find ways to reveal themselves.
Good night. |