Today, what good can I do in the realm of all thinking beings?

I think
A little, like an experiment in thought,

Imagining, i.e.,
Id  estimated in time, Ai ai ai

If then
Joy…
As a power, a strength, maybe
Joy is a virtue, like
A good super
Mutated
Knack.

The Joy of YHWHHWHY is my
Strength to enjoy,
But secretly
Because
You envy, because you know

Normal people cannot live into their eighth decade
Happily, so
You think I am lying to you and I musta made a deal,
So happy am I

To tell you no lie. That was the deal.

I want to write that in front of every achievement
I want to write it at the head of every poem I write

And I don’t think I will be able to create anything
At least, nothing I am proud of
Without an asterisk explaining
This is my depression work

For depression affects everything
Infects everything
Dims my worldview and
Makes me irrational, hypocritical and
Turns me into someone I am ashamed to be

Depression takes away half of my once-brilliant mind
It leeches off my creativity
Drains the enchanting, poetic optimism inside me
Until everything I think, everything I create, everything I am
Disgusts me

So
Just as a reminder
This is my depression work