Wednesday, January 20, 2016


For the last week or so, depression has staged a blitzkrieg on my emotions. Things I would ordinarily enjoy seem dampened and colorless, and I feel like a failure at everything. I don't seem to be able to manage conversations properly or cook food or sleep.

At times like this I become unaccountably creative, which isn't unheard of, of course. The art world is chockablock with the afflicted. Unfortunately, I have no natural talent. I'm one of those poor fools who wants to make something beautiful but succeeds in making something laughably puerile. I suppose it shouldn't matter. It is, after all, only a way of keeping my mind occupied. If only I could convince my judgmental inner critic of that. 

I want to stop feeling like a failure. I want to actually succeed at something. Creative pursuits are not helping in that arena. 

And round goes the carousel of negative thinking. 

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