I'm not sure how I've been feeling lately. I should be happy, but yet, I don't feel not happy either. And why would I choose to post here of all places? Who know, because I suppose that no one that knows anyone that I really know is on here save a few people. Perhaps I'm falling into a fit of depression, I've felt it coming for a while now. And I can feel myself falling deep into that pit again. Alas again my pride keeps me from discussing this with people directly, but this is no surprise. My best friend, my wife, neither of them I'll confide in. But I don't believe that they'd understand. Or maybe it's a fear that they'd rationalize me out of it. Or at least they'd believe. It would continue until I pull out of it. Or so I hope. Perhaps one day it'll be the end of me, and a part of me doesn't mind. I'm not sure what I'm ranting about. I've been composing so many poems as of late, but not written a single one down. Perhaps my soul is just pouring out pent up emotions into the darkness of the night as it filters through the smoke of another cigarette. My audience the stars, their cheers the cars driving down the road. A grand stage of my own twisted grandeur in my mind. Am I losing it or am I finding it? What is it that I speak of? What is it I'm searching for? Why poor out these thoughts and feelings to yet another empty audience of people that have either forgotten my existence here or have no connection to me. Again, I'm not sure what I'm doing or what I'm searching for, but I am, and it's endless, and I'm lost.