I Am Depressed
I'm not going through depression right now, but I still have the most depressing thoughts. Today on my school bus, I sat by myself near the window, which is how I prefer. I saw my sweater in the reflection (yes I have an obsession with sweaters even in the spring time)
I saw every thread in the sweater and I looked down and saw my hand resting on my sleeve.
I noticed how different my hand is from the sweater, obviously, as they are two different things. But I also realized that these big things are made of small things.
The sweater, made of multiple threads, loomed in a pattern. My hand, with traces of lines that leave fingerprints.
I found it strange how I was taking a second to take that all in while hours earlier, I was focused on what to say next to a friend, or how to fix my hair without people thinking I'm little miss perfect.
I realized how strange it was that at that moment, life was so beautiful.
The patterns in my sweater, so simple, so fragile, and special.
This depresses me because I find a sweater more appealing than my own life.
I saw every thread in the sweater and I looked down and saw my hand resting on my sleeve.
I noticed how different my hand is from the sweater, obviously, as they are two different things. But I also realized that these big things are made of small things.
The sweater, made of multiple threads, loomed in a pattern. My hand, with traces of lines that leave fingerprints.
I found it strange how I was taking a second to take that all in while hours earlier, I was focused on what to say next to a friend, or how to fix my hair without people thinking I'm little miss perfect.
I realized how strange it was that at that moment, life was so beautiful.
The patterns in my sweater, so simple, so fragile, and special.
This depresses me because I find a sweater more appealing than my own life.
