Of Cracked Minds & Breaking Hearts

So much is going on inside my head, my heart that I just want to explode. No, Implode more like it. Like, the days for me ahead, stretch ahead sans sunshine and pretty thoughts. It is now time, for Counting Crows and Smashing Pumpkins to play on shuffle-repeat.

I cannot, express my self. Too apathetic to type.
Sickened. Depressed.

What if a person is depressed to a point where one's characteristics turn into the total opposite? From cheerful to introvert. From outspoken to timid.
Would that mean, that person is depressed? Or has depressive qualities?
Whereas if a normal person were to have those naturally, would that person be classified as depressed or normal?
Are changes in personality a sign? Why can't a person just change?

I feel weird. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin.
This post rings so empty.

Maybe it's that time, where that little spark goes to sleep again.

I went walking in a mall, and I practically floated around *ring the alarms, people, you know who you are* and everything seemed so trivial. Just little distractions we play for other people, to make this passage seem a little less pointless and give us the illusion that it's never going to end.

Buy that dress, go on, put your kid on that little whirring ride so you can waste 10 minutes of your life, electricity and oxygen, watch that movie, deadeyes, light bouncing off those wells of opaque black, kiss that boy and escape from disapproving glances because you're young and supposedly have all life ahead of you, go on, eat that same old engineered and additive-packed crap from that greasy plastic bag just like all your similarly-dressed friends around you, talk away about you you me me us us, go have dinner, a "nice one" with jaded waitresses and tired cooks in the background, where everyone can't wait to take your money, can't wait for you to go home.

Fluff. Mere Fluff. Like unwanted lint on the couch. Even Spot the dog leaves it alone.

Brush it off, and throw it away. More fluff, come my way!

It never ends does it. The dog dies, the couch gets thrown out, owners move away and grow old.

But fluff, lint, dust and dirt are here to stay.