Let the poets cry themselves to sleep, all their tearful words will turn back into steam.

I just realized that I'm depressed. This may seem like something quite ordinary, but alas, it is anathema to my existence. I don't get depressed. Seriously. I just don't.

However, I have come to realize that I have been in a steady, unabating depression for at least two weeks now. Sure, I have good moods and bad moods throughout, even to the point where most people wouldn't even notice, but there is a cloud of melancholy hanging over me, raining piss and vinegar, and I forgot my raincoat.

Let this be a lesson to those who think that being in a healthy and ecstatic relationship is the key to happiness. I couldn't be happier with Jacquelyn, and things are going great. However, before I met her, one might argue that I wasn't as depressed as I am now. Why is this?

Before I met her, just about everything in my life was sort of in the dumps. Nothing was quite working. But with that continuous level of craptasticality, it was easy to be happy-go-lucky. Now, with something so good and true in my life, a bright, shining beacon in the midst of a shit-storm, it throws everything that is not working into sharp contrast and the things that were just moderately dung-stained seem to be dripping diarrhea.

Suddenly discovering that everything is covered in a thick effluence, I've decided, is quite a good reason to be depressed. However, I will not stay like this. Depression is a primer, an energetic resting place to gather the momentum to make the major changes that will bring my life back into order.

Some like to wallow in their sadness, in that low, dark basement of the psyche. It feels safe, to not feel anything good, because good can be taken away. I can't do that. I need to fix whatever isn't functioning. I need a psychological spring-cleaning.

I will use this dark power for good. This isn't the One Ring. I'm not Frodo. I will not fail.

I drive a Thelemic car.

Around my birthday, I had this dream, which I will copy here...

I dreamt that I was driving a car and my passenger was Aleister Crowley. He was somehow back from the dead and I was filling him in on everything that had happened since his passing in '47. I went to pull out of the cemetery where I'd picked him up, and realized there was no passenger-side tire and I was attempting to drive on 3 wheels.

I had done a lot of pondering what this meant, especially as it pertains to my life and path. Uncle Al has been a large influence on my cosmological thought, he and Jung holding the two main pillars. Today, I was meditating as I drove home and had this revelation.

I was driving Uncle Al in my car. I drive an Infiniti, whose symbol is a triangle in a circle. My goodness, it's sort of like my tattoo.

Also, the year, of my car? Oh, it's a '93, oh Holy Thelemic Number that you are!

Was Uncle Al trying to warn me about my car falling apart? Am I relying one-tire-too-many on Al? Is the status of my car a measuring stick for my path, somehow synchronistically connected? Am I reaching for straws here? Am I babbling incoherently? Am I eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?

At least one of those questions are true, I am sure of it.

P.S. Here's an icon for my Thelemic friends :)

Divine Birth in the New Aeon

INFANT DISCOVERED IN BARN, CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES LAUNCH PROBE
Nazareth Carpenter Being Held On Charges Involving Underage Mother.

Bethlehem, Roman-occupied Judea – Authorities were today alerted by a concerned citizen who noticed a family living in a barn. Upon arrival, Family Protective Services personnel, accompanied by police, took into protective care an infant child named Jesus, who had been wrapped in strips of cloth and placed in a feeding trough by his 14-year old mother, Mary of Nazareth.

( My Lord, the drama continues! )

Another is love.

( Who is love? )

Someone should rename the Suicide Assistance Hotline. That's false advertising.

As per request, I present a small batch of Suicide Bunny icons.