i don’t know
what is happening
anymore.
when i write
i slip into
my persona non grata
my alter ego
the fool.
in the real world
i am a stain
black mold
the fungus among us.
a ball
of withered depression.
the fool though
he wants more
from life.
he dreams of love
from
the metaphorical her.
of happiness.
he is my mania
given form.
but the mania hasn’t come for weeks now.
the rollercoaster is on free fall.
and
i have to try
and
explain this
to a world that
cannot
will not
understand.
depression
is my everything bagel.
this is me.
really me.
and
i am not enough.
i have made amends with this
long ago.
i cannot explain it.
the dreamer slowly dies.
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
💜
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i feel badly for so thoroughly enjoying your expressions of misery.
but they are so…(is fun the wrong word??)
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i don’t know. But I understand. Seeing someone else wrestle with depression makes it so you are not alone in it.
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i figure if you are able to do the fungus among us thing, then there is some hope. xxoo
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If I made you feel like you needed to explain it I apologize. I thought you said the fool and meant another blogger
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never need to apologize to me my friend. never ever. we are always good.
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Apparently not always in the underneath
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always.
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