It has been a fact all my life; I write more when I am depressed or sad or angry than I do when I am happy. Why is that? Is it because when I am depressed the words in my head are so much louder and bigger and they march back and forth across my fragile mind, stomping in the truth that really I am worthless? Is it because the loud, large, harsh, sharp edged words are easier to believe? Is it because happy is boring and depressed is much more dramatic and exciting, with images of maidens throwing themselves from cliffs because of their broken hearts and unrequited love? Whatever the reason today is one of those days and today I am blogging. I wasn't in a terribly bad mood when I woke up this morning but then I allowed myself to be drawn into an argument with someone who thinks it's fun to upset people. While I fully support everyone's right to have an opinion I believe that respecting and allowing the opinions of others goes hand in hand with having a loud and proud opinio
this is how i see the world