My self-diagnosis

Hunh. This is odd.
I'm depressed.
"You're neurotic, you're depressed-it doesn't mean that you are sad..."
Bull shit, I'm fucking sad. I almost cried when I saw that we were out of milk so I couldn't put it in my coffee...
...
But then again, that could just be from lack of caffinneeee. However the eff you spell that.

So, back to depression. I really think I am. I think I have finally cynicized (i think I might have just made up a word) and pessified (gasp! another!) myself into honest-to-god depression. And I don't think that I'm Ziggy or anything, because I do laugh and smile, it's just not...easy...anymore.

What kicked me in the ass and suggested that I share this (not-so) new idea with the world? Ultimate Blogs-masterworks from the wild web.
Yes. A book.
I suddenly had the urge to have the entire world read my every though! I mean, after talking (and coffee and dogs and rain and cancersticks), reading is my favorite thing to do! I could be published in a book! For essentially talking to myself!! Imagine the possibilities...
There are many problems with that.
Assuming that I was eloquent, which I am not, once one gets an audience of readers, they stop writing for themselves-they lose their personalities to form a new one in which they think people will like, judging by the amount of comments on the last X amount of entries...
Not to mention, I'm, like, ten, and who really wants to read about a little kid's life? Not me, that's for damn sure.
You know, as I was reading this awesome anthology (look it up on google, I'm too lazy and tired to ohmygodputinalink. so deal.), I realized that as much as I think I have a fair vocabulary, or that I can, you know, type correctly and with proper grammar, I really don't. I mean, for this tiny little town, yes, but I def. don't rank up there in the top billion in the world...
and i'm too fucking lazy to hit the spellcheck.
Oh well. Maybe someone will find this one day and think, "the crap attitude plus the crap writing is rather charming. Maybe I should mention this to one of my rich writer friends...Hmm, she also seems to like to sing...Maybe if she's such a shit writer, she'll be an even shittier singer! I can talk to my producer pal and we can make a fat, white, english version of william hung! We'll be rich(er than we are already)"
...
Or not.