pre blog some mo

Depression is fat; globs and globs of lard weighing you down. You are aware of its presence, but by design it feeds on that knowledge, multiplying itself incessantly. An onlooker will dismiss it with varying excuses :

lose weight

budget

change jobs

get a divorce

stop drinking

exercise

quit popping/smoking/shooting/snorting

and when you can laugh, you will laugh at that because they know nothing of it. How could they? Drowning out thought with new ringtones seems to keep them pretty busy. But their stress helps feed your disease.

If only there was a cure for unhappiness;

then we could fly

and explore the universe

and meet God with shining eyes and faces

Death could be a cure if you believe in heaven; if you believe you can get to heaven.

But the job at hand requires physical life. material life. Globs and globs of material you must sift through to find meaning.

But you know there is no meaning in materials.

That should be your goal; to value nothing material.

But what else is there?

If we knew that; then we could fly

and explore the universe

and meet God with shining eyes and faces.