I've fought hard wars with depression

I've had a couple of battles against the causes and the symptoms

I know I've won this war  because I know I'm going to stick it out until my times completely over

But there are battles and I have these constant fights against random sadness and useless dreams and pointless nightmares

Sometimes I sit in silence

Because me and silence have many conversations

We speak in my head

We talk about what’s the next thing that I should say

Me and my turbulence is a non problem solving situation that I cannot answer at this moment but this moment is a speck of the many moments I have created and will soon come up with

So I’ll decide what is the difference between a speck in time and my moments of truth like the factual basis that I’ve committed no crimes

But it is a crime to sit and whine

It’s a crime to lay and rhyme

But no Dr. Seuss rhyme will help me get out of this lame cliche idea of the titled untitleds

Giving names to those nameless creatures that we have unveiled into the world

Yet the only creature I've met is in me

I’m not knowing if it's good or bad

And Googling symptoms will only lead me back to my wars on this so-called “Mild Depression”

Me and silence have wonderful conversations but I miss those luxurious talks with old ignorance

My ecstasy

My delight

My pleasure

My realization that these words are synonyms

Similarities

The redundant ideas of bliss

The unconsciousness of happiness

These sudden realizations that the word happiness is “Ha Penis”

And then there’s my immaturity

My childish displays of freedom from knowledge and knowing random facts

And that if I ever end up with a beautiful girl,

all I could give her is love with little to no success in anything other than the idea of holding her

To not let go when all forces are pulling us down on a bridge,

One hand holding onto said bridge

The other making sure she doesn't fall

Because fall is one letter off from fail

And failure is not an option at this moment

This moment is not a speck

It’s not failure

It’s not success

It is the idea of right now

Right now doesn't matter when time is nothing but an illusion

but the word illusion looks like illustrate so let me paint this picture in my mind of having your back when no one else would even grab your hand so you won't fall

This isn't a speck

But this isn't good

And this isn't bad

It’s the titled untitleds of me winning every battle I have to fight and to succeed in this dream of the bittersweetness to this true accomplishment of life and death

Death is one of my biggest fears aside from rejection

But I reject death as a sign of weakness

Rejection and death are both my negatives so if i decline this demise,

It’s a positive

But a positive isn't a promise of one’s satisfaction

It just gives us the titled untitleds