Yeah I have depression as well. I figure my hippocampus is pretty well shriveled. Wotthehell.
A long book of one-liners is good.
Shrug. My memory is a sieve. Stuff I do remember, I think to myself, who cares LOL! Maybe the key to reading sober is anti-memory. Reading in the moment?
Anyway, someone sent me this poem:
When all this is over, said the swineherd,
I mean to retire, where
Nobody will have heard about my special skills
And conversation is mainly about the weather.
I intend to learn how to make coffee, as least as well
As the Portuguese lay-sister in the kitchen
And polish the brass fenders every day.
I want to lie awake at night
Listening to cream crawling to the top of the jug
And the water lying soft in the cistern.
I want to see an orchard where the trees grow in straight lines
And the yellow fox finds shelter between the navy-blue trunks,
Where it gets dark early in summer
And the apple-blossom is allowed to wither on the bough.
----Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin