Thank you:

I love my life right now. No. More. I love my life lately.

I was manic for a long time. At least a month. This is impressive for me. Then I slipped into an absolutely breathtaking depression the day before Halloween. The worst I've felt in at least a year.

And I'm still depressed. Have been depressed. My thoughts are slow, my mood is down, apathy covers everything, but I love my life.

I force myself to write because I can't think of anything I want to do. And it's always torture at first, but then things pick up. Whatever I'm writing jumps up and surprises me, takes me in directions I don't expect. And then I walk around the house dazed and giddy for several hours, because I can't believe that I just found out or did...whatever I've just found out or done.

Basically, I've finally figured out how to make art while depressed. And this is huge, because previously my artistic endeavors were confined almost entirely to my manic periods. And my work when I'm manic, especially when I'm writing stories, tends to not make very much sense.

I just feel like my whole world's been saved. I could be alone forever. I could be depressed forever. I could never see a band play for the rest of my life, and I'd still be okay. Because now I can produce things in any of my moods.

I can't get over this. It's so beautiful.

revoless.
12:17 a.m.
November 06, 2003.
Listening to: Spoon.

comments? 1.

The art of being alone or Bit on victimhood and self-destruction (clever title)

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