I depleted my recent candy acquisition. I see a mouth full of cadaver donations in my future. I hope lots of people who avoided sweets all their lives choose to donate their teeth when they die. (Thanks in advance. 😁) More candy arrives tomorrow. Heh. I have to admit to a fascination with having dead peoples teeth in my mouth. It’s a Stephen King novel waiting to happen, yo. Imagine what Jordan Peele would do with it. I may even take a stab at it.
I believe the above paragraph qualifies as a warning against reading further. I’m having a cognitive kaleidoscope kind of day. I would elaborate, but it’s presently beyond me. It involves thought loops that spontaneously capture my attention. After the first few rounds, I start playing with it. It’s mental jazz or something. I’m not really into it, but I can hang. (This paragraph counts as an example.)
I know why this is happening; it’s a fragmented focus. The Depression Monster has been low-level messing with me for a long time, and I’ve been ignoring it. Sometimes it feels like walking across a minefield. At any moment, I could buckle under a mountain of despair atop me out of nowhere. An interruption to my ability to do more than exist while questioning why. Thinking about it seems dangerous, so I don’t.
Instead, I double down on known counteractants. Exercise and laughter are most potent in my experience. Both are difficult to attempt when depressed. They’re the last things you feel like doing. But they help, so I usually manage. It’s brutal because the necessary effort is always astonishing. I can’t even bitch about it, because I know I’m more skilled at living with chronic depression than in the past.
I have a deep sadness about the state of humanity on my back, as well. I feel horrible over the massacre in New Zealand because the atrocity was deliberately committed by a fellow human, resulting in the loss of fifty of us. We are less now. I hate reminders of our collective insanity. I don’t like thinking about impending self-destruction on a species level. I’m too literal for this game.
I sighed when I read Aunt Becky was supposedly arrogant when appearing in court recently. It would have been weird if she wasn’t. We all know she knows she’s merely the one who got caught doing what we all know is so common it’s a freaking tradition among the privileged. Character stopped counting in America at a point I’m unable to pinpoint. Perhaps it never really mattered. I still believe Mr. Rogers knew what he was talking about, though. (Despite all the evidence supporting Dr. Ford’s theory of the human intellect being like peacock feathers on Westworld.) And on that cheery note, I’m off to read. ✌🏽💜