|I wonder if, rather than a black dog, my own experience of|
that curious lack of emotion known as Depression could be
personified by black butterflies?
How do I know? I think this is worth recording (for myself if no other reason). I have not enjoyed an ale since late August: the time in the local without happiness last week ought to have tipped me off here, but I can now add to that the fact that tonight I have not had an ale and it has been a good day, a good week and I have had the opportunity to have one. I have managed no joy in my pootlings online, which is unusual, and even playing games has been mechanical. Drifting toward captions I have seen the sort of thing I enjoy, usually, and the styles of stories that appeal. I have gone to art sites that are not sexual-related and stories that do not rely on TG or one-handedness and got nothing. I have glutted myself on Cracked's After Hours and enjoyed that, with real laughs, but it has been entirely passive in terms of my engagement. When I become a passive receptor I know that I am being a tad depressed - I lack the idea sleet and that, even if I do not act on it, is a feature of me not being depressed. A lack of it must therefore suggest depression.
|Note the addition of a catheter that|
would necessitate some padding.
|Could this solve the issue? She wouldn't need to do or control|
anything and I would be able to pretend anything I liked.
In the chessboard of my life and that of people whom my wife I and I know, I am uncertain how much is shared between the front row and the back, and how much relations between the two queens would be changed by revelations on this blog - in short, I know not how much of this here place is shared between qp and his Imperator - but I said I would remain honest. I suppose this is me remaining honest! So, good things, and something about which my depression will find it harder to lie.
|Black butterfly curtsy|
- strangely close to being exactly what
I was looking for from the search terms.