Depression looms

 It's no use trying to write. 

Depression looms.

Sadness at every thought.  Panic. 

Why?  Why panic when you know you're going back into the fold someday?  Just enjoy whatever happens, man.  Who cares if you lose everyone and everything and end up cold and wet and beaten up?  That's just intensity.  That's what you're here for.  You signed up for it, remember?

No, I don't remember.  I think you're making that up.  

Life is suffering.  Unfulfilled desires.  There's a way out.  Follow this path. 

Come on, man.  Cheer up.  Where does it stop?  You don't get sad because you don't have a yacht, so why get sad because you can't go to Germany?  Billions of people can't go to Germany.   Why get sad because you can't hire a car?  Billions of people can't hire a car.  Why get sad because you're struggling with the bills?  Billions of people struggle with the bills. 

Why do billions of people struggle with the bills?  

I don't know.

All you really need is a sink and a loo, a bed and a cooker, a spare set of clothes, maybe three and a library within walking distance. 

Paper and pens. 

Paper and pens.  Write a story.  Get it down, get it out.... At least the basics.  Someone else can write it if you can't, but be sure to get the idea out of you. 

Why? 

Because if you don't, you'll explode and there'll be bits of blood and brain and bone all over the place and that's not nice. 

No.  That's not nice.