Thanks for watching. I may slip again, and stumble headlong into utter depression, but let's be happy for moments of clarity.
here it is, tonight, although spattered still with self-doubt and
really bad ear worm singing lines from an overused/melancholy love song,
a tiny crack I would like to call "a possible cure."
The truth is
there is no cure. There is only swinging from rope to to rope, from one
happy experience to another, from "hey, I feel productive" to "words!
how they sing to me!", from running to picking up the pieces to gluing
them together in ways only I can think of.
If there _were_ a cure,
it would start with this: Forgive yourself. Because people make stupid
mistakes all the time, and yet somehow they stay alive.
Good night, lovely universe!!