Dazed and confused.

I feel sad. There's no particular reason for it. Usually I'm in a state of complete anxiety, but luckily, I'm not now. Tackling depression is somewhat easier than anxiety. It's like when you're in an accident but luckily your insurance covers everything. I mean, you won't be able to walk for two weeks, but at least you can afford the luck induced holiday because you didn't have to pay for the hospital. Is the metaphor/joke getting stretched too far? Sorry about it. Sometimes humor is my way of dealing with depression. Hawkeye and Chandler taught me that. They also taught me a lot about women, but you'd need their hair to pull those lines off. Also, they aren't real, so maybe they don't work after all. I'll stick with my own lines. They seem to work on women when I try.

That was a huge detour from an otherwise depressing rambling of a hugely flawed and irrational man. Writing helps. Or rather, typing helps.

Maybe I should write on a blog. I think I'm funny. I've been exposed good old fashioned American comedies for a long time, and hopefully some of it will rub off. I wrote blogs instead of Twitter. I'm not old, but my mind was running through the non 4K videos of good old 90s.

I think I need therapy. Too expensive at the moment. Talking helps. But everyone else is so dense about the important things in life. Most people don't know who Miles Davis or Chopin were. Hardly anyone reads these days. It's difficult to find people who you can talk to. Maybe I'm just too condescending in a Frasier Crane sort of way. Perhaps I need to try some Chilean sea bass with an aggressive Zinfandel.

Later. ✌🏼