Sunday 11:00 PM

by dschapman

I am depressed because I am depressed. That is the only way about it. There is nothing else that could cause these anxieties. I have nightmares, yes, but who doesn’t – and the loneliness, yes, it is painful, but who is without pain – and all of the good things, in my life I have good things, better than most things, and so I am empirically full of goodness. So if I am blue, it is because I am blue. It is clean, easy tautology.

I am getting ready to go to the grocery store. I stand in front of the mirror and fix my tie. I put on a jacket because the weather is changing, it is cold again, I can breathe again. I take the jacket off because it is too formal. I put on a sweater. It is too old, too respectable, I take it off too. I take off my tie and unbutton my shirt. I change my pants and then change my shirt. I tuck in my shirt, and then I untuck it. I take it off and put on the first shirt. I tuck it in. I put on an old, simple pullover and try to look younger. I am already pretty young, but I feel out of place when I look my age, instead I feel like Alexander, I feel like I am 45. When I am 45 I will be a god. I will be invincible, and I will sit in my chair, invulnerable, not being killed, not wanting, not needing, knowing nothing anymore. I will slay the demons at my door, but if they take me – let them.

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