I’ve written essay after essay tonight, all of them heavy and philosophical, and none of them what I want to share with friends. This is a fairly common occurrence for me, which might be a surprise to most of those who know me.
I have a really dark side. Depression is a constant tide that pulls at me, incessantly trying to draw me into the deep waters, and under. That is my natural bent. But I am not a slave to my bent nature. I learned many, many years ago, that just because “that’s the way I am,” that doesn’t mean that’s the way I have to act. And the way I act has a profound effect on the way I feel.
So on nights like tonight, when the tide is rushing high and that deadly undertow is pulling at me, I consciously resist my natural bent by doing something really silly, or writing a nonsensical poem or story, or playing with marbles, or building castles out of marshmallows. Unfortunately, I’m completely out of marshmallows at the moment, so I’m going to have to write a poem.
Summer’s finally burning out
The days are getting shorter
I might be sad to see it go
Cuz it was a rip-snorter
But since it scorched me every day
And never gave me quarter
I’m glad to see the hot-shot go,
That’s not true for my daurghter :)
She’s wild about the hottest days
And hates the cooler night
She’d live in her bikini if
I told her that she might.
But since she knows that goose-bumps
Are not a lovely sight
She’s pulling out her sweaters
And grins because they’re TIGHT!
(those poor boys don’t have a chance!)
Ok, so I didn't say I wrote good poetry - but I feel so much better now. I think I'll let this be my Thursday-ish and take myself off to bed.
