Childhood miracles. With some mention of shoes.

2002-06-21 - 7:26 p.m.

Also when we go out tomorrow, we will buy shoes. We won't buy cigarettes, because I quit them last November, though for some reason I've been kinda wanting one...I think it's because I'm feeling a little self-destructive.

That was Pookie's realisation about himself a few weeks ago, that he's self-destructive. It's a lesson that's easy to forget. I'm pretty sure that for him, when he's about to sabotage himself, he doesn't think, "Gee, this'll be a great way to not get the marks I want in school."

I'm usually aware of my self-destructivity...it usually is heralded by a realisation of the consequences of my actions accompanied by a despair that I will engage in the behaviour anyway, that I always seem to, and that things will never change.

I don't feel like that now, but I have before.

The thing I hate most about depression, since it came late in life for me, I think, is that I was a happy kid. I can remember days of such complete contentedness, when the sun would be shining the right way, or I had written a new comic book about Laser Light and his trusty sidekick, Blue, or just riding a bike so fast, or lying in cool grass on a hot day...

Those moments came easily and often to me, they were how I lived.

But once that spell broke, those moments are near impossible to have again. I've never felt that simple contentedness, a peace with myself and the world, as if everything glowed in some special light that I could almost see.

When I come close to moments like those, they're miraculous. Special.

And so I ramble on, ending another entry in a completely different country than where I started.

Cheers,

The Magus

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