on depression

goodness me – ruddy depression – never in my last 60 odd years did I imagine using me and depression in the same sentence

it’s pretty horrid – and if I believed it was true depression, I would embrace it and fit into the box – but I don’t – I really think that I am deeply sad and engulfed by grief which is rendering me a tad useless generally

and for fuck’s sake – it can fuck off right now – as far as it can go – in fact, I’m going to wrap it up as a gift, and order it a taxi to be delivered to anyone who thinks they are missing out on something – my gift to the world: a sense of self that I abhor…

perhaps that is not very kind – but what are my other options? keep it? no! flush it down the loo? if I could! however, that kinda gets into the whole water system across the globe – and I think I should reserve it for that one special person who wants it – not to be shared equally – that seems unethical and inequitable!

so who is it that wants it? is that my business? I think not

perhaps a better question is – what do I want instead?

that is easy

I shall make a list






working at something that excites me and makes me smile







there are many other things I want that don’t immediately spring to mind

but I know for sure that I want to hug my nearest and dearest

and let them know how much, how deeply, how unselfishly I love

if I can …if I am indeed unselfish …

it’ll come ….


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