Friday, November 11, 2005


I miss being depressed. I miss the despair, the gloom, the self-loathing, the bad poetry. Those were some good times.
I used to be dark, edgy, a swimmer flouting the mainstream. I had attitude; I was a rebel with cause.

And then I got happy.
Out of nowhere, the bitch sucker-punched me.

And I’ve never been the same since.

Profane. Profound. What's your poison?