Shit. Only...

...four beers into the evening and I already feel like crying. It's not even 9pm.

Even iTunes is not without its intuitive irony. Despite having in excess of 10,000 individual songs in my iTunes library, the songs it picks at random include something-or-other from Siansperic's "Somnium" album (it doesn't matter which track - they're all fucking depressing) and Harry Connick Jnr's rendition of, "Where Or When". The former is all the more ironic than the melancholy melody and downbeat lyric of the latter. Why? Because not only is the sound of the album and perhaps the band distinctly funerial, it was also described by my ex-wife as, "...the music everyone was shagging to at uni". And they're from Hamilton, the fuckers. What kind of music would one expect from the Ontarian 'fires of Mordor' I suppose...?

I should be happy, or at least at ease. Typing on my new laptop, ensconced in a camp chair on the porch, sipping cold beer and smoking cigarettes. Staring down the reps from the church of latter-day saints as they prowl the sidewalk opposite. I am actually cogniscant of the good things in life, but unable to relish them. It's as if the drugs I take to inhibit my mood only work on the emphatic ones. I don't remember the last time I felt anything as strong as joy, as euphoria, as glee. Even as relief. Perhaps the BBQ the other week included some of these.

I've barely eaten today so I should probably cook dinner, but I can't be bothered. I know I have no clean cycling kit for tomorrow, but the washer/dryer may as well be on Jupiter. Drinking myself into sleep seems much more an attractive proposition. I haven't yet decided about my next-door neighbour's offer to go and play 'Mario Kart' on the Nintendo Wii. It requires interaction, speech, approachability, and close proximity to other people.

It might be asking too much.

I have to say, I do wonder when things might pick up again. I'm tired of such woeful writing content. Maybe I should can it until I feel better, or have something positive to write about. But then it either wouldn't be useful content for the medical community to use as a case study, or might be a fucking long time without any entries at all.

Wow. Even if I listed out all the nastiest things I've ever done to anyone or anything in my entire lifetime, I still think the bad karma of how I feel now and have felt for the last year or so would be unbalanced. I guess if nothing else, people can read this and feel relieved that they're not me.