Days of Birth

An old story that I have told many times now. I stay up late, it is my birthday, and am lost in my head. I’ve said this before, but I think it is important to say, again and again, I did not expect to live this long. I am almost thirty, I truely believed without a doubt in my mind that I would be dead by now. In that respect, every moment I still exist exceeds my childhood expectations for me.

I grow older, but in many ways, I am still a child. I suppose I am not unique in this. We are all still learning, and growing and changing as people. The change is so much more subtle than I thought as a child. Depressed, happy, thoughtful it is all still me. As a teenager, you strive to be unique and even I often wondered who I would be without my depression. While my depression may never go away completely, I have learned to manage it better and better. I understand now that am still me, no matter how I change.

Dream of a Motionless Sea

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI had a dream that I felt I must write down. I was on a small boat with my brother and sister beside me on a completely calm and blue ocean. It was dark and there were no moon or stars in the sky. We pulled the boat up to a tiny rock island. On the island was chained a lion. The lion was sick and malnourished. Its ribs showed through its skin and patches of hair were gone, instead was rotting flesh. The lion was in its last moments of life. I called it a Revenant, because “It is already dead, it just has not accepted it yet.” We tried to step onto the lions Island to release its chains and perhaps try to put it out of its misery but the lion pulled on his chains trying to strike and bite any that approach. As he pulled on the chains that wrapped around its neck his skin ripped like paper and fresh blood pooled around him. In the panic, we fell onto our boat and caused it to tip. I woke up as the boat started to sink into the motionless sea.

No Longer Human

“I have always shook with fright before human beings. Unable as I was to feel the least particle of confidence in my ability to speak and act like a human being, I kept my solitary agonies locked in my breast. I kept my melancholy and my agitation hidden, careful lest any trace should be left exposed. I feigned an innocent optimism; I gradually perfected myself in the role of the farcical eccentric.”
Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human