on Depression- day 21b in peace with defeat

technically it is the next day, but i haven’t slept yet. when insomnia comes around, it does so in the same manner as inspiration; as it pleases. 

not that i’m necessarily inspired. but i am here.  i’ve been thinking, which is the curse of me. but also sometimes the saviour.  first of all, depression is a dark form of selfishness. i am not saying i’m awake, and tomorrow the sun will suddenly rise. but this comes from the witnessing of so many people, in fact everyone, extending a piece of themselves as a promise of their love and non-judgement.(at my weakness).  yet i’ve incessantly locked myself up in my loneliness. and ironically, as i have a holiday coming up with friends, i’ve booked myself an extra four days after the group trip. those four days are what i’m looking forward to, more than anything right now. 

so maybe it’s not that i’m lonely.

i wonder what looks like loneliness, feels like loneliness, but isn’t.  when i sing i need you, when i dream of being held, who is this faceless gentle ethereal form that makes me can’t help but                        exhale.


what i have been looking for is not just the fall, not the release, not the breaking. follow me after….. a full cycle underground, and then



metaphorical of the kind, phoenix adamantine, with all new sorts of juxtapositions. new and old reasons.  lessons thrown out that door, spaces burnt and ashes reshuffled, where life grows out of its own embers.


i had a conversation with a friend a couple nights ago, who for since we knew each other, we’ve known each other our whole lives.  really. it was our first exchange where i got him caught up on my ‘current condition’.  (we live quite a few continentsandlives apart). at the end of the conversation, he said not verbatim:     don’t worry, i remember who you are

i welled up, but refused to release. which was a real shame, because it’s existence, that moment, was so acutely piercingly through and through me real.  but i couldn’t, because my family was waiting for me to join them in the living room.  i did not want them to see me like this, i did not want them to ask. 

what’s the point of all this. maybe simple. may be far too complicated too. frankly, i have no clue. but perhaps my loneliness, is a loneliness for myself. not for the other- any other.  

plunge i must into a world where only i exist, and find myself galloping in fields of hope, climbing a mount of dreams.  

if i keep this image ahead of me, maybe the going as it goes everyday, will not feel so heavy. 

About fatimasque

living for artimaginationcuriousity
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