Residual: Depression

2024.08.14

Good morning that wonderful way.

At it again.

What else is there?

Not really a question to answer.
What's here is what's here and that's that.

Different day today.
A new day.
Old things take on new meanings, kind of day.
Like an old friend visits unexpectantly with some good news kind of day.

A day where you start second guessing then remember there's no need for that because you know where you're going and what you're doing and the only thing to do is to keep doing, so you exhale and keep doing.

Been a long trek through silent necessities, these past few years.

Vision quests and making the old stories new.
Reboots and booting the old, what doesn't help gets left, or goes retranslated, updated to help.
What helps gets upgraded to help even more.

One of those slow sentence's days.

So far at least.

The old playlists just won't do today.
Something sleep did changed the meanings of all the songs.

We ought to talk about what dreams can do, what dreams do.
Soon.
Or sooner or later we're going to have to.
Our machines are going to make us think we're obsolete.

Our imaginations already cry for recognition
That's depression, our creative fire's cry while we kick sand on it and call the cover up a necessity.

Like a zealot from some ancient cult that believes every (what they believe is a) sin requires them to have to punish themselves with self-inflicted violence.
They whip themselves to quote unquote 'be good.'

We call the residual pain that results from this: Depression.

We're here to create and that's that.

Create what?

Exactly.

Figure it out and do your best to serve that.