I threw days away in the vague hope of getting nearer to better moments, never thinking that the present could bear equal fruit. There was no peak and no bottom, just the constant flow of trivial affairs.
Is it this easy to accept fate? Can I open up my arms to bring in defeat, just like that? Maybe there will be harder days ahead. Maybe there won't. Maybe defeat is the hardest part of it all and all that is before me now is a flow of bright and hopeful days. Until then.
Until that day. But everything seems so clear now. Maybe I won't have to face that last moment of lucidity. Maybe it's time to give names to that which is ineffable, give them names so that we can be forever and that they may be frozen into eternity.
And now I'm warm all over, back from the palour of rigidity. But what remains is a wake up call back to another reality. The mornings are tough. A few comfortable moments in that half-light before you realise that it's still there.
The twitching, the jerks, the aches, the tension and that nausea, that sense of hopelessness, of eternal isolation. That noise of depression that just can't be ignored.
Now I can't think, can't see, can't hear, can't feel nor exist without that surge of unfamiliar emotions, those inexistant memories, those echoes of a distant world that is clearly not mine. Here I am, a stone in this infinity of rock, yet an isolated alien in this crowd of people.
Tremors bring me back to something that is obviously not eternal but, never the less, is a pain to endure. Some thoughts aren't mine. It seems imagination has now become some incarnation of nemesis set to punish me for my foolish adventures into the realm of unconsciousness. And of course, those delusions. Short lived but truly disturbing. Half awake from intense dreams.
A healthy body for a healthy mind, or vice-versa, I'm not in the state right now to remember correctly. Either way, missing vital parts of your system isn't something that you can easily ignore.
Hence these long weeks (soon to be months?) and this page of lamentation.
There's nothing left in me but this vicious cycle of vile thoughts and a deepening sense of despair. But I know how depression works, and it only lasts for as long as you're convinced you're depressed.
Here and now, people, here and now.
Red
