Bleeding happiness

Depression strikes like a cobra with fangs lodged deep and venom flowing like a river in my arms to my heart and all I want to do is cut it out of me so I can feel happy again.

The vast reality of uncertainty makes my rebellion more raw and honest.

Who are you to judge me? I am but you, but, white, female, short, younger, older, what have you but, you all the same. Just looking for answers in a vast sea of questions that will never be directly answered to my face by The Man or really any ONE who feels they have been anointed with the ability to tell me what it is that they think that I am doing that is so wrong. Shit, no one can directly define what wrong is because they are so afraid of being wrong. Lord, he the inanimate object, is the only one to truly know the 'true' wrong from right. So, I will continue to find out for myself what it means to be good and bad, good and evil, or wrong and right. After all, I am the only one who has to live with the decisions I have made for myself. When all is said and done everyone can banish me like a leper and I can die alone like I so yearn for, but not really. Even the most introverted person seeks friendship sometime.