the two times a year i get depressed - the middle of winter and the fluctuating part of summer - are beginning to comingle and intertwine with each other.
i was the happiest i've been for a long time yesterday, and i will give credit to my "day off," which, i will admit, was lovely. hot showers and loud nick drake and wearing a skirt even when it's not sensible and the ability to do what i want - beautiful.
late at night my mind starts falling.
i can't tell if i'm depressed or i just feel sad frequently.
i don't know anymore.
i don't really care anymore.
because i am going to keep doing it, regardless.
i'm not going to do anything to change it, conciously.
if my actions result in that feeling leaving, so be it.
but i will not pursue it avidly.
[i want something to hold on to.
...but i don't know what.]