Isn’t it strange how apathy moves in waves, as if it were a passion and not the lack of one?
I know you’re not supposed to drink when you’re depressed, but when depression manifests itself as an inability to be moved, sometimes a couple drinks help me feel it, the sadness, which is the only way out of it.
This confirms my suspicion that depression is a terrible luxury. It’s when, in the absence of tragedy, we react as if we’ve experienced one.
No one needs to worry about me or anything. I’m just having one of those times when everything is going fine, but I’m not feeling fine. You know?