My brother's birthday was yesterday. I feel selfish because I'm depressed for a lot of reasons, they don’t listen to me, they don’t hear me, they don’t see me. You can't imagine how stupid things are, the world, what people do and say now, what they care about and value, what they covet and treasure. None of it lasts, mesmerization, joy, happiness, heartache, none of it lasts.
The exact moment I knew I was sliding back into a depression that will kill me was when I realized that I was blindly walking around our Georgia house, and around the windows and above the doors and on the walls were a galaxy of pictures, large ones and small ones, some artwork and things that even I painted, all of these things which you grow accustomed to and regard as just spots or shapes on the wall, all of these things that are memories and moments which you never look at.