Time To Time - ON WRITING AND RUNNING

I often find it hard to deal with life from time to time. There is no real reason. There is no real rhyme. Just an overwhelming feeling of sadness and lament. An all-consuming notion of gnawing discontent. My stomach turns to knots and my thinking runs amok. I'm out of common sense and I'm running out of luck. The older I become, the stupider I get. Each memory that I have is filled with deep regret. I'm drowning in a wave of self-pity and depression. That's why I'm working through another psychiatric session. The co-pay helps a little, but the cost is too intense. My wallet's getting thinner while my brain is fairly dense. My visits are quite manic as the hour passes quickly. The doctor is frustrated and is acting pretty prickly. I'm in need of a brain washing. A cleansing of the soul. I hope to start anew before I lose control. Don't know where I'm going. Don't know where I've been. Looking for away to wash away my sin. I often find it hard to deal with life from time to time. I no longer have the reason. I no longer have the time.