The most depressing thing about this depression is that it's all my own fault. I have the potential for happiness, I know it, because I've been happy. I'm trying to do the right things, making the happy moves so to speak, and thank goodness I fool most of the people around me most of the time. But I can't keep it up. I dread this summer. If I didn't think about the negative stuff all the time, if I could stop focusing on my own worthlessness, I'd be fine. Worthless, but fine. (OK, contradiction in terms. Perhaps then I would have some worth.)

This incoherent rant was brought to you by Flightless Birds 'R' Us.