“Today, I can’t get my creative juices to flow,
I don’t know what to write,
the lights are on but no one’s home,
I’ve got the imagination of a rock or a stone.
Maybe today, a little depression,
which has brought about some minor regression,
but I’ll be ok later,
after I’ve been out for a run,
yeah, I know how to have fun!
I’ll pick myself up off the floor,
I’ll walk out the door,
on with my running shoes,
I’ll give them some abuse,
I’ll pound the streets with my size eleven and a half feet,
I’ll grit my teeth, I’ll run in anger,
I won’t pander to the depression,
I’ll smash it,
I’ll listen to my music,
Gaynor, Gloria, I’ll experience running euphoria,
I’ll knock it on the head,
today’s depression will be stone dead.
You see, my meds don’t live my life for me,
they merely allow ME to live MY life, MYSELF,
it’s up to me if I want to feel whole,
well, the meds and I, we share the role.
So, for now, nothing to worry about,
just got to sit it out,
I’ve had to learn
how to deal with this sort of funny turn.
I’m comfortable in the sure knowledge that,
after my run,
after my bit of fun,
at 9pm tonight,
I’ll feel more than alright.” – koby
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