I'm not sure if I feel like ruining another art post. Too honest, sometimes.  Too much of a handful.  I'm too hard on myself.

^{Not Again}

Some Say

^{They "suffer" from depression.}

I don't get that.

Suffer?  How?

For me, it's more like an uncontrollable and sporadic burst of I don't give a fuck about anything.

Impossible to suffer, if one simply does not care.  Then it's gone, until next time.

It's easy to become distracted by the inside voice who so eagerly feels like reminding me of the time I screwed up, years ago.  Then if that memory isn't enough, the inside voice seems to want to talk about all of the other devastating experience points obtained over the span of more than three decades.  Maybe not giving a fuck is the best defense, so I'm glad not giving a fuck comes naturally to me.

Sometimes not giving a fuck makes getting through the day incredibly difficult.  It's hard to get things done when I don't give a fuck about anything.

Since when is a vacation a form of suffering?

^{I think some of these folks just want people to feel sorry for them.}

They give people like me a bad name.  Weak.

There's no sadness in this depression.  I simply don't give a fuck.  It'll be gone tomorrow, maybe the day after.  Then I'll wake up full of piss and vinegar again, ready to take on, whatever.

Most folks seem to fear talking about being down and out.  I think it's normal to feel shitty.  It's unnatural to feel good all the time.  There's definitely some kind of a chemical imbalance going on inside of the noggin if you're smiling and thinking happy thoughts as someone takes a shit on the hood of your car at a red light.

The reason people get away with shitting on hoods of cars at red lights these days is because so many fear being naturally angry, as if being normal is wrong.

Sitting inside the mobile safe space, doors locked, attempting to stay calm on the phone with the emergency dispatcher.

Since when do we need to stay calm!

^{There's someone taking a shit on the hood of your car!}

There's no better time to freak out and go batshit crazy than now!

But then there's always someone gawking, recording your every move.

You step out of the vehicle, freak out, start mopping up the shit with that dude's face, and some moron on the other side of the intersection is yelling, "World Star!"

Then you go freak out on them for recording you as you throw feces all over their vehicle, and that's the part that goes viral all over social media.

Then it's Monday and your boss calls you into the office.  "We heard rumors of a video online.  We saw the video and unfortunately, we're going to have to let you go.  You're fired."

That guy was shitting on the hood of my car so I took care of him in front of a crowd who decided to mock me for not wanting to put up with this shit and you're firing me now!

Well, yes.  You were supposed to just sit in your car and take it up the ass like any other highly medicated good citizen on this planet.  You're supposed to let the police handle it because we, as good law abiding people, are not qualified to handle life on our own.  We are useless, we need help, and that's why we have helpers with guns.  Know your role and learn how to smile away your worst days otherwise people will think there's something wrong with you.  Aren't you concerned about what everyone else thinks?  You should be.  It's them who matter the most, not you.  What you did was selfish!  That's why you're fired!  We don't need people who take care of shit themselves!  Those cops have kittens that need food and you're trying to take that away from them?!

How dare you!

---

All of this rambling.

^{It reminds me of a time I was relaxing on the beach in front of the cabin.}

I was relaxing in front of the cabin, on the beach, in August, while I was away from the internet.

What a good day that was.  Nobody was out shitting on hoods of cars that day.  Nope, just me, the sun, a chair, some cigarettes, a lighter, some beer, sunflower seeds, a knife, and a small piece of driftwood I felt like carving into something that resembled my life that day.

Thanks, brain, for reminding me of the time someone called the cops because they saw a man with a knife drinking beer on the beach.  You asshole.

Why can't people just stay calm in these situations?  They got it all backwards.  They stay clam when there's shit going down; freak right out and call the cops just because some dude on the beach is half drunk, watching people walk by.  Of course they didn't see the carving part.  All they saw was a man with a beer in one hand and knife in the other, staring at them, because they were staring at me.

The cop was fine with it.  I'm allowed to drink on that property.  Once I showed her the pile of wood shavings and the little dinosaur I was trying to make that looked more like a half gopher, half turd; she was cool with the knife.  I even let her hold it.  She called it, "Snazzy."  I offered her a beer, she said she can't.  I said, "Don't worry, I won't call the cops."  She laughed and that was it.  I almost want to get in trouble again just so I could talk to her because I forgot to get her number.

Anyway

^{This was supposed to be an art post.}

I guess I screwed that up, again.

Whatever; I hope you liked it.

Have a nice day.

Credits:All art and images seen here were produced digitally, by me.
^{"I just don't give a fuck today."}

^{© 2018 @NoNamesLeftToUse.  All rights reserved.}