2003-10-29 - 10:15 a.m.

Stapled Foreheads

If I had a dollar for every friend of mine that is depressed right now, I'd have a metric shit-ton of money. I understand that people have reasons to be depressed, but what I have a hard time relating to is extended depression. Often they can say why they are sad, and that is a good thing IMHO.

The thing that worries me is just how often they say, "But I'm over 30-years old!" or "I'm getting so old now." It is one thing to joke about it, but it is totally another thing to let fear of getting old, fear of dying, to make you stop living.

It just isn't any fun trying to comfort people that are essentially going out of their way to feel depressed. The world is too interesting and too busy, to sit at home worrying about where you'll put your corpse.

Do I worry about these things? Not really. I'll die. Hopefully it won't hurt. And if I'm lucky my thoughts (like this diary) will live on. But I will have lived.

n.p. klinik :: end of the line

-=-

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