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This is a bit of a random story for me to post here, but with the way I’m feeling, this hit me where it counts and I hope it produces a little bit of a good feeling in everyone who takes some time to read it.

             Going to work this morning, eagerly listening as Sinatra worked his way into my head, trying to knead out the knots of consternation with his lofty airs. But today he was just falling short and traffic wasn’t doing much to ease the mood.

          Along the road there was a construction crew doing work on the center divider that separates the east and west-bound lanes at an intersection where a BART railway crosses the road. The sky was dark and grey, the breeze blew frigid daggers at your cheeks, and the sun wasn’t out to warm the laborers who probably just wanted a hot cup of coffee and an hour more in their own beds. And with it being rush hour their work was halted every time a group of cars trooped by because of how small the divider was and they had yet to set up a barrier.

          As it was my turn to drive by, I looked at every one of them standing on the divider, each one grimacing, perhaps at the work they had ahead of them or something else troubling their minds. Their shoulders were slumped, eyes diverted elsewhere, some took a seat on the railing to wait out the passing autos; then I got to the final one in the row. She stood tall with her arms crossed and perched atop a spade that she drove into the loamy earth of the island divider. She showed no signs of reluctance to do the job at hand, no annoyance at the flood of cars making her job more difficult. Instead she smiled wide and directly at each passing car. I don’t know why she was smiling of course; it could have been for anything, or nothing at all. But I could feel the warmth it radiated in the moment, I could feel it seep through my driver’s side window and envelope me with the comfort of a thousand tender embraces and as I passed I couldn’t help but grin like a fool because no matter how terrible things get, no matter how tired you may be of a situation, there is always a silver lining out there. And although it may seem like a small thing to many, for me it was something I had to see, and was glad to see this morning.

Best wishes,

-Your Humble Author

When you see yourself through the distorted lens of depression, you have trouble recognizing your own reflection. You can’t see the seam separating your normal self from the irrational being that calls you its host, and shows none of the courtesies a guest should uphold. The lines blur, and all that’s left is a pain that washes over your heart like a malevolent wave lapping upon your withered soul; a pulsating ache that ebbs with the ever-changing tide of humanity.

The last time that I saw her

Was racked with misery

A familiar face

Bringing terror to my knees

From false prophet worship

Forgery FORGERY! I shout to the sky

This Goddess hides a demon

Beneath my own ignorant eyes

I have been a fool,

Weary that my own path

May fowl hers.