Hello again, my Old Friend! Melancholia

I thought that I was done with it, I really did!  I was really better the past few days.  But depression has set in again.  I hate it!  I want to be normal, get a job (all of you know that I do have a brilliant side), and get back with my family.

Not likely.  My garden is ready to pick, and I have not the energy to do anything to make it so. Melancholia is a curse that I have lived with, off and on, for half a century now.  For a couple of weeks I was over it, but that was just because of a fantasy.

Now, never concern yourselves that I will do anything rash.  I will live until I die, and will not die from my own hand.

I miss Teena.  I miss holding her, talking with her, and loving her.  I miss my boys, all of them, from the eldest who is doing well, the middle one who is as muddled as I am, and the youngest one who will have a birthday soon.

The hell of it is that all of the bad things are all my fault.  It would be nice to blame everything bad on one or more of them, but that would not be honest.  It is all my fault.

A few years ago I was on top of the world, doing good things for our folks in uniform, then later keeping the entire population from being infected with food borne illnesses.  Then I strayed.  Females have always been my downfall.

Fortunately for me, I have not had anything to do with them for several years.  I was a bit buzzed about Ashley for a month or two, but realized that it would never be so.  It is best for me, and any female that reads my thoughts, to keep very far away from me.

I have a deep character flaw, and need to tell you all about it.  I wish that I did not, but indeed I do.

If any of my regular contributors read and understand this, and never contribute again, I understand.  I am a very bad person, and freely admit that to everyone.  I can not sleep, hate to eat, and just want to drown in rain.  Sorry, I borrowed that from Townshend.  I have never had an original thought.

Thanks to all who commented on my pieces.  I tried to be sincere with them, but now you know that I am just a fool talking about foolish things.  I will leave you with just this, of course by The Who.

Please all of you be well.  I shall not.

Doc, and who gives a shit who I really am.


  1. Doc

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