A long time ago I was getting flirty with somebody I had known for several years. She said, "Years ago, this may have meant something to me. Now it's just cute."

All this time and it still burns.

There Is Only One Story

There is only one story:
he loved her,
then stopped loving her,
while she did not
stop loving him.

There is only one story:
she loved him,
then stopped loving him,
while he did not
stop loving her.

The truth is simple:
you do not die
from love.

You only wish
you did.

© Erica Mann Jong

Sometimes the only thing that I think will make me feel better is not just getting out of this depression but being in what I imagine to be the opposite of it.  After being down for so long, I can imagine how one might fantasize about living a life where the predominant feeling is a constant, nearly hypnotic bliss interrupted only occasionally as ( Read more... )

So I'm sitting here before I go to sleep thinking about all the things I could be writing here. I refine things so much in my head that I never actually write anything at all. I need to just force myself to do it.

When you're at work and somebody complains about you to management for doing or saying something that made them uncomfortable, it makes you feel like a pedophile or a rapist.

I'm dishonest. I'm dishonest in my writing. I create situations purporting to be factual. I do this to to have a voice I think. To have an identity, a life.

Pretty much had a breakdown today. Out-of-control sobbing. Didn't care who heard. It's been a while.

I hate depression.

There was a young man who said "Though...
it seems that I know that I know.
What I'd like to see
is the I that knows me
when I know that I know that I know."

I'm sure you've seen the bumper stickers (or magnets) that say "My son is an honor student at yadda yadda school." There was the low-brow counter to that which was "My son beat up your honor student." I understand the sentiment but I think that the one I saw today was best: MY CHILD DOES NOT NEED VALIDATION FROM A BUMPER STICKER.