Istiqlál (Independence), 3 Asmá’ (Names), 171 BE - Friday, August 22, 2014 about 3:01 pm Pacific Daylight Time
It's Friday afternoon, I'm depressed and I want to cry. I want to sit down on my love seat and cry until the depression goes away, but I know that crying won't help. Crying will only make the depression worse, so instead of crying I'm going to write. After I finish writing, I'll put the dishes I just wash away and then was the electric fry pan.
Writing helps alleviate the depression. At least it does when I spell the words properly and don't have to click the spell check every five seconds to find the proper spelling. Writing makes me happy. I always smile when I write, even if what I'm writing is nonsense or ranting. I know I can't write all the time because I have housework to do. I also have to find a way to increase my income, but sometime the surveys make me depressed because I think I could be using my time better.
Writing out the depression
one sentence at a time
this butterfly comes out of her cocoon
while overcoming the depression.
That's a good start to a poem. I have to write an acrostic poem. I have to write a mirror acrostic poem because that is the one type of acrostic poem I have not been able to master. I suppose once I've master it someone will come up with a new type of acrostic. I'll deal with that possibility when the time comes. Depression might be a good theme for an acrostic poem.
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