I'm abandoning the alphabetical posts, as it's obviously not helping me post more often. Screw the alphabet.
Ok, I can't blame the alphabet. I blame being under the weather rather endlessly. Had a little surgery that did not go exactly right, then something else went wrong and something else and something else ... and before ya know it more than a month has passed and I'm still waiting for my guts to uncrumple. Kinda like the waiting room in hell.
Having a body that no longer cooperates does not help get my mind out of the rut it was already in. Let's go ahead and call it depression, which we're not supposed to talk about. Not "the blues," but total drifting-in-hopeless-circles, spirit-is-dead depression.
I don't want to talk to people.
Or go anywhere.
Or make plans.
Or talk about plans.
Or dial numbers.
Or make any changes.
Or think about the fate of the world...(oh, but I do this an awful lot anyway)
And I'm as obsessed and guilt-ridden as Lady Macbeth.
I do still have ideas and plans, which propel me toward a desk, but then I hover in a doorway and extensively mull over whether anything is worth anything. Once I've wasted what feels like a sufficient amount of time, I finally move to another room where I can hear the previously exciting ideas going sssssssssss as they hit the water, extinguished.
If things don't shape up soon I'll be this lady, rather prematurely.
Only she seems pretty content, and that's probably her own doorstep, whereas I'll be sleeping there and be asked to move along by the cops every morning 'cause I'll have stopped working or caring until I've lost my very own place to rest my butt.
Or not. Ok, I know there's actually a solution.
But not drugs, brother...
This sign is at a laundromat. If ya bring drugs along for laundry day, does this sign really mean all that much to you?
I took anti-depressants before, and they got me past a point that I probably would have otherwise withered away to nothing...but I didn't care about anything while I was on them, and more importantly I think getting off them is like going through a blender---you're likely not to pour back into the same shape afterward.
And not colon-cleansings. Thanks. Someone has actually suggested that. Good for you if that cheers you up, but...
And, no, Tom Cruise, vitamins won't wash a bunch of ugly thoughts from my head. Dear Tom, I think if I had your great genes and a bit of brain-washing I'd feel super stoked all the time as well.
I've been here before, and this will all upswing soon. Why, just a couple days ago I did some drawings---that's crazy-talk! And this world is still tolerable as long as there are otters in existance:
I was gonna ramble some more, but lately I kinda like just dropping stuff and things and just walking away from