AD.

Yesterday was weird, rough. Even though my brain is normally filled with dark thoughts, dread, and foreboding, basically I’m usually a romantic optimist. But yesterday a massive depression fell over me. Couldn’t sleep, feared for my mind, and started feeling claustrophobic. Even the weed failed to lighten my load. Gave me more of an appreciation for the chronically depressed – how do they ever NOT kill themselves?

I did manual things to help – went for a walk, read a lot to kill the time, sat in the sun. But the best thing I did was force myself to work on the non-fiction proposal a literary agent has asked to look at. I find my depressions normally come because I’m not doing enough, not producing, so I find the best way to work through them is to force myself to do constructive work – write a poem, make art, wash dishes, exercise, do the unpleasant tasks I’ve been putting off.

My blog title comes from one of my 1972 poems:

Suicide Note

Poor naked ape, melancholy Dane
Dying the silent, sinking orange
I offer my praise to mad Ophelia’s black mass
Receiving Laertes’ pain poisoned harangue
I’ll soon join that fortunate lass
Morpheusly oblivious of pain
   (Camus’ first question of philosophy re
    weaves Thane Hamlet’s “or not to be”
    brings Kant’s “progressive unification of
    sense manifold” to termination: total
    psychic expiration. Hence our sole
    existential goal becomes fervently wishing
    good death’s black ghoul to sensually become
    as one with our whole)
Where God assumes skull Yorick’s reign
Stay yet awhile Horatio and give lie to my name

Anyway today I’m way way better. Here’s yesterday’s fotos.


1st world festival – foto by smith

Madonna with a gun – foto by smith

justice – foto by smith

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