looking over things

i guess January was either perfect 

or perfectly distracting because i didn't write at all

i was playing football with a kid i knew

and we began talking and i guess

i can't avoid talking about either myself

(self-absorption)

or about deep subjects

(self-indulgence)

or both

(self-grandeur)

but i talked about depression

and without really talking about it i told him

all the shit that my life has been made of

the deep fissures of darkness that swallow up

rational thought into inexplicable obsessions of irrationality

speculations and fear developed solely from speculation

and without actually saying anything

i painted a web waxwork fear and darkness, which

the truth seemed to appear

of course when i talk about it i myself begin to slip back

into the caverns, being caught in the very web i'm spinning

but perhaps most importantly as i struggle into the web

and wrap myself into hopelessness

i look into myself and reflect

and this deep self-reflection i personally attribute

to my depression

although now i reflect deeply when depressed, i think

that it started out

with deep reflection on who i was and the uncertainty and the

speculation of what i was that planted that seed that grew into the 

entangled mess that is my torture

and for that i'm grateful

not because being depressed is great

and life is wonderful, but because

well i have a certain perspective

a perspective unique to me, deep to me

and sure someone else has thought of it

but the synthesis from within myself draws its own conclusions

which allows me to related deeply

and understand deeply

but deep understanding means nothing

if i'm wrapped in nothingness.