I may be depressed, and many times like this, I have plodded on into the night trailing into the morning with music in my ears and tears in my heart and a blade in my hand.

I have been told I wallow too much in my head to live with others in the conventional mental society. I've been frivolous with skin and men and time and the whole idea of life.

But I love my life... there are things that have made it great... so what is this big deal about the way I live life as cry for help... So what if I'm depressed and I probably always will be, and there are people who are normal but will never have faith in things like I do, I do.