the Blue thread

I woke a bit blue today but don't know why. sometiems if i watch old black and white movies from the 30s it helps. what's yr cure for the blues. And dont say listen to Blues music cause that makes me feel even bluesier.

well booze worsens it and so does caffeine. it counters the Paxil which I take for anxiety which is linkes to depression. So I know I'm melancholy now cause i drank coffee...

old movies esp. from the 30s, i get lost in them. they are so removed from today's problems, violence, technology. A gangster gets shot, but there's no blood, the comedies like Marx Bros. are brilliant without sex and visible body fluids. My mom was always into old movies. She knew every film and actor and I guess i picked up on that as a way to comfort myself.

and doing something creative helps. I like to write. I suck at painting.

yeah. happyjoy depresses you more! see, that picture makes me happy. Winter twilight. Snow, amber/sepia light. that's comforting...

yeah. she takes good pics. Once again comforting. Shadowy buildings, that same sort of light. It's like night is approaching and you have to get to town before teh vampires come out, but you know you'll make it.

Um, unless that's a pic of sunrise. Then just reverse what i said.

hey do you get depressed when winter ends? i do, like reverse seasonal defective disorder or whatever...

Oh yeah. I forgot you live in Sweden. I'm actually in Detroit, so we get a good 6 months of it (that's a joke...)


Who's that pic? It looks like Myrna Loy, sorta....

Also, nice lyrics, but can ya believe i've never heard a Suede song in my life...

Is there room for another ?
A poem I wrote inspired by melancholia, tinted with despair, and a touch loneliness...

Alassinvane

Raw, when your van rolls w/some new man,
Like an oxen, every hour becomes new with you,
me like a kitten and her feeble mew,

To fight this war we'll use even a worm, every eve,
on every avenue, we hold them for ransom,
So that when we err,
Some scum in some crease like a nervous
cocoon,
Shooting cannons from his saucer,
Like arrows that scour,
breaks this noose like a razor

When her fertile zone becomes itself,
it is not without reverence this sorceress
shall amaze, her wares and her curves
although never scarce,
we are weak not to snooze
under her caress,

And we sleep in the sewer when we undress,
like a wax museum our coma shall sense
there is no reason to measure
her golden vase
Or censure what arrears we try to recover
now with success

Its humerous these assurances
that we consume like cocoa
Its convex, like Morocco an uncomon
occurence that shall nevermore
be our successor

With romance we swarm, and the craze
of our heart is arson
No stash of amorous aroma,
maroon announcements of sameness,
reversing the measure of the lack of revenue..
Romance shall speak nonsense into the cavernous soul,
Serene this caravan of desire, now concave,
Venomous, onerous, scorned, sonorous, with reverence...

Garbo! Duh!! i am not awake yet.

Another cool pic. Looks like Ansel A. but I'm probably wrong again...

I was gonna say something wise but Im a little too blue, slightly upset....
I would really like to jump in a snowbank but all the snow melted...
Do you have any more pics of snow?

[Edited on Jan 08, 2006 by Kullervo]

Kullervo! nice poem. sort of Poe-ish...

Also u gave a shout out to my HOMETOWN!!!! Way to REPRESENT!!!

WHOO WHOO WHOO

oh yea, that was purely coincidence!
this frown is lifting slightly...

my frown is gone. I've had breakfast and flushed out the caffeine with ginger ale!! Also some old Jack benny programs. I feel very much better.

Ah yes. A classic, Katrina! A classic!!!