Sometimes life can be so beautiful through the dark storm clouds of the midwest. Sometimes I look at the buildings and they seem electric. The sky pastel and everyone is love. Even the homeless smile after all...
I've found something, something beautiful, a wonderful secret, amalgamation of spirit...
Today I am tired, my stomach hurts, I'm overworked, I've been smoking way too many cigarettes. By all accounts I should be miserable. A week ago I would have been. But I'm sober, I'm sober, I'm sober. I don't loathe myself today. I don't look in the mirror and grimace. Today I feel light, almost fluffy, overwhelmed by the possibility that still exists in this sick world. For all it's stoney classifications and its right angles and it's FUNK YOU to nature, for all mankinds' idiocies, for all the hate and war and robbery there is a transcendence. There is a possibility of reprieve. There are beautiful people in hidden corners and alleys and children who smile innocent of the beauty that we've lost. Is this hope? Is this infectious hope filling this tired cynic? This thirty year old dodderer? What gives?... Wouldn't you like to know....
Freepath... shake the snowglobe....
I love you man, you're right of course, but in certain states of mind all helpful comments seem facetious. That's the problem with depression. I once heard a wise woman (ahemfellyahem) here talk about how she left SR because she imagined that all of the responses to her posts were ephemeral and condescending. She came back sometime later and realized that they were genuine and really very helpful. When immersed in the disease of unhealthy mind nothing helps, nothing, it's TERRIFYING to contemplate that I've spent more than half of my life in this frame, this twisted meandering nonsense of psyche. My problem is so much more than alcohol, perhaps I should burden a mental health community with my ramblings instead of hardworking all american addicts like yourselves, yet, here I go less crazy, the anxiety is less contagious, I can work through alone the dark times and come back to pick up the crumbs of insight afterwards, even if the afterwards seems like forever in coming. I thank all who've posted here, (even the comments promptly deleted for apparent inapropriatenesses...).
In any case, my snowglobe's been shaken. Not by me but by something greater than me, something as yet indescribable even in mimikry, even in dream... But nonetheless I have been inundated by a gift from those gods that normally relish in my torment, and I fully intend to ride this wave all the way to the end of time, ... granted the gods are not lying in ambush along the way, oh, how thy revel in doing that...