Poets, lovers, and lunatics have such seething brains.
lost and alone, dismal depressed heartsick
I didn’t want to get angry again so soon
I spoke with her in the late afternoon
and I thought I was now immune
you can blame it on the moon
I’m still just a bitter lunatic
blame it on the moon
It’s just the dark of the moon.
My mind is broken and my soul is destroyed.
Today I have been suffering from distress so intense that it’s almost unbearable.
I don’t believe I’m depressed because I have been able to function today, after a fashion. I have washed, shaved, my clothes are fairly clean, my home is clean, I have cooked and eaten a meal. However, the anxiety and nameless dread are incredibly severe.
There doesn’t seem any reason to hope, and yet there is every reason to fear. I am mentally, spiritually, and physically afraid. I want to run. I am so afraid that my chest hurts, and there is nothing for me to be afraid of.
I want to be alone. I have been isolating myself in my garret, and yet I would give almost anything to have a friend to talk with.
I’m a mature man, but fat tears have been rolling down my cheeks.
I’m exhausted, mentally and physically done in.
I feel as though I have nothing left to give.
There is no reason for me to be so acutely distressed.
Looking back I don’t ever remember feeling this bad before.
I’m becoming a lunatic.