Incubus

Adrian of Atlanta, Georgia will not come out and play. Perhaps she is a depressive, like myself.

(I'd like to think Adrian is a she.)

Interesting parallel on saw's blog. I wonder what she means. Probably not literal. Probably nothing is.

This has proven to be a difficult week. Depression was so all-encompassing and oppressive, i wanted to write a poem about it. Only i couldn't. Cuz i was depressed. I could hardly breathe.

But if i could, it would've gone something like...

Engulfed in a fog
of
Shit

To make matters worse, for four nights in a row i could not stomach any alcohol. I either went without, or took a few sips and had to head to bed, it so didn't agree with me. Tough times.

Having read saw's recent postings tonight, i wonder if mine were sympathy symptoms. How cute would that be.

There is so much more to depression than just being sad and feeling blah. For me there's a lot of angst, for starters. Quite an irony for someone who claims to yearn for human connection to resent when someone reaches out to touch. And i'm starting to see it does not have to do with bitterness or fear of rejection. Sometimes the solitude orientation just... is.

And it's impossible, futile, dare i say, to attempt to explain this, to skim the nature of this demon that rides on my back and fucks me from behind, until i bleed and bleed some more, but never bleeds me dry, so the next day it can start all over again.