One O'clock

September. 4(P3)

Dear Diary,

Things are bland, and still the same. I confirmed to myself yesterday that I do, indeed, have depression. Mild at the moment. I was doing the dishes today, and washed a knife. That was peculiar.

Here is another poem;

I am lost.

Lost, lost lost.

Help me find my way?

Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize.. Your standards are too high for this.

I am sad,

Sad, sad sad.

Will you bring me a basket of happiness?

  Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize.. Your standards are too high for this. 

I am lonely,

Alone, alone alone.

Will you please just stay?

Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize.. Your standards are too high for this.