It's late. Marco is tired. I had good chicken tonight.

The worst part about feeling depressed is about not knowing why. I asked myself this question earlier today. I suppose it's because I blame myself too often for things. As result, I feel bad about myself (. . . for that reason things that are out of my control are what cause my depression.)

I've always been a person that has put others ahead of myself. This part of my nature: is my most debilitating part of my personality. My instincts are impartial in how I choose to interact with the world, my thoughts + my rationality are what make me 'human'. I care "too much" therefore my emotions make up my self-concept. In other words, I want the experience to be an emotional one in order to trust what intentions are in another individual. for that reason - it is my fear of letting people take advantage of me. I deeply involve myself with my sense of inner-conflict. I describe my depression as a desire to truly express what feel gets blocked due to external circumstances. Therefore, this prevents me - my psychological nature - from expressing what those feelings mean in real time.

For example: there is a person I will only describe as someone I do not care for. To make a long story short - this same individual I am referring to makes me exhibit my inner being with resentment/ hostility/ anger. It is better I completely avoid this person, simply because I know that emotionally I cannot connect with. Therefore, I refuse to compensate for this persons actions - no matter what this person does - I simply cannot condone in the presence of such a person. This makes a part of my emotional self. It is a state of extreme caution I must take.

Everything about this person makes me want to vomit.

As much as I would like this person to change, I continually blame myself for this. What results is that I have negative thoughts that exist, pertaining to my "psychological-choices", these negative thoughts work against me on a personal level. Physically, I cannot connect with this person whatsoever! There is so much mentally going on, that this person I object to so whole-hearted, I refuse the purpose they exist.

On a meta-physical level, people would agree that my own worst enemy is myself. However, I must admit there is another side in what this reveals. In short: the permanent part of my character inhibitions: (i.e. The part of my caring nature = that I feel gets rejected, or neglected is not due to my lack of self-concept.) What I believe, is people over-compensate for themselves (in a manner of speaking) have self-concept without considering the other person.

Much of my adult life has felt as if I'm a stranger, it is a crowded place, and I have nowhere to turn to.

My job is exteremly unsatisfying. Brain is dead. Feel very tired.

There are many parts of me that I only fail to realize are important. Much is left to be desired, I suppose, happen to be the most imperfect parts of my personality. What I begin to realize, is how little I actually know.

This week. . .

my visit with a friend went completely sour on me. In fact: I would hasten to add I thought I was making this visit something worth my while, but it turned out not to be true. Instead, I Was met with insensitivity - followed by a cold outburst of emotion - that I still can't comprehend? For that reason, I alone would probably be better off not knowing.

Therefore, it is up to me from this point onward to reveal some of the things that interact in my environment on a surface level. My position in the company that employs me is not a dream job by any means. However, my probabtionary period has ended. Now, I officially become an employee with earning benefits.

For the most part, I am less happy than I would like to be.

Dedective Disposition

A lot of my time lately I've spent doing deductive reasoning. The search for answers. Some soul searching.

In the context of my dis-belief and curiosity

Today, I missed taking my sedative. My day at work was a struggle. (I made it through arduously.) Now, as I reflect on the day that was. . . it signified something. Yesterday was an equally tough day to overcome, which I reflected upon. For the same reasons (of which I will not get into length upon), I see myself in fear of happiness.

A dream in ecosystem

A dream like
I'm still in it
as though my valley
of the sun.

I dance with no displaced nature, my
taste for appreciation.

My feet not aprehended in chains
of defeat.

That is done in honor.

My sense of living duty-free.

This, my inherent obligation
to exist in time an inhibited outward state.

My spirit is 'consequence'.

Anti-Conceptual

There is nothing wrong in my approach if danger.
My will - will not be broken.
My spirit not to cry before judge and jury.
If false accusation -
heaven and in pride I come to it.

Restrained in Thought

Shadow of my love,
the choice is an adequate sum of my limitations.
Trust, honesty, good judgment;
these are things that I adopt quality of life.
A sparkle in my touch,
I feel will not resist the change.
I do not reduce myself, I appeal to intuition.
I do compare my result to my image,
my respect to my development.
There is nothing I have lost
in need of search.
I count on blessings upon my island,
beseiged in thunder.
I forget responsibility and take no regret.
I have a curious head space
that grows less furious.
I own.
I anticipate the task.
I say I can.

Incino Man

I suppose withdrawal is a factor in my inhibited nature.
I change in the opportunity to challenge my purpose.
I missed in resisting "the need."
Its taken me courage to overcome my many arduous obstacles,
I become a necessity of.
Thinking better as I really am,
I value empathy.

No individual:

- naked - .

I would lie?
I would speak the truth!
My lack of expression;
in my empathy for a coward,
not an enemy.
My intensity is a silent extremity.
My threshold is made of in virtue.
A ring of fire,
flames I stop,
I have ignited,
I share,
I see.
(My dreams) are not of straw-made-figures,
rolling down an empty tin of chicken stalk.
The corrupt are not true to a hero.
I have changed in my approach of such unpredicatble magic.

Unresponding Seriously (Crazy-thought)

My big smile keeps the faith alive.
I've dismissed my melancholy.
I am my equal;
an allegory of my own nature?
I am better-well reminded of the charm
in forgiveness that only benefits me!
My blistering structure of congeniality
is an intellectual image.
My lifestyle is not off limits
as I push-then-pull, shout and scream my way
to the top.
The kind of sale-I-answer
no amount of (money) cash-advancement. . .
pity cannot buy from me.
A vanity I try:
not in feeling alone or to be left out in
. . .the cold.
Making a case for myself as I go must go through me.
The discretion of an indecisive-type individual,
shy in my love,
I direct with caution,
my movements make no room for error.
A vision of something I care to trust,
whereas it seems that nothing is out of the question.
My joy I share "happy" -
happy inside me as not if asleep.
A recognizable obsession, as though only reconcilable,
or for sake of "sleep" is in fact my personal-obsession.
No ordinary love.
Nothing is ordinary of my love. . .
I value, I being worth it.
Pushing my envelope while not preparing an excuse
to be sorry for or apologetic about.
Not sloppy-therapy in my guilty-pleasure.
To this I do defend in my honor.
I am on the other-side of my world.
I'm raising my standard to this I'm in.
I will wait my turn for these hands to get a hold of it.
This my code that I observe in my own suggestive behavior,
I subject to myself.
Such consequence I will not commit to desire or chance.
The risk I have to take is calculated without predicting thought.
I am the thoughtful one of all.
My matrix of this my thoughts in energy.
No mechanical shadow,
I inclined out of me
to decline or dare I declare dismissed of me.
I love winning as much as I hate in watching.
My own sense is of satisfaction in my luck,
that I leave breathless.
I feel that my power to reason has not failed me in response,
or held me in captivity, yielded my confusion left behind,
I look through what lay beneath hidden from view
wielded upon my surface.
My big crazy smile,
I hit the ground running.

I am a doctor

I am the difference you gave me, doctor.
That a gift is of devine intentions!
My eyes shut-tight;
as I listen.
A baptism by fire:
my 'spicy reverse-pswychology' in training?
Setting the boundaries for my maker.
A spirit that sets my heart free.
I am a student that masters the art,
to be-a-man, take-action, as I seek-redemption.
I run, I run, I run. . .
pure adrenaline rush. . .
full throttle. . .
witout the position to compromise 'I' myself.
Time-sensitive are my hands that heal.

To succeed you need to find something to hold
on to - something to motivate you - something
to inspire you.

Tony Dorsett

On the subject of my-future-behavior

Creativity is nothing but
a gesture without any lack of
initiative; my thought in happiness?
I'm equally reminded of my weight!
How, I believe, my "closet friends"
are stuck behind the door.
In the future I reveal my distant past
serves my memory well:
as if Stanley Kubrick were directing my film.
I would challenge myself of no deviant nature present
in my acting habits.
My style is of great opportunity to me.
The script I own has been writing itself for me.
No mistake I've made.
My tender, love, and care.
My competence factor 'x'.
My concentrated desire,
I focus on the fate of my becoming.
My perfect crystal-ball and chain,
why not express the truth I command.
Such as 'eating.'
I do not desire to express despondence in my eating habits.
I automatically obey the rules of digestion in my stomach.
Brilliant, radiant energy of the mind.
My hunger is in my stomach.
Of all places throughout every part of my anatomy,
my stomach is the most seduced of all.
I have an addiction.
My obsession is in the thrill of dynamics for food,
as I am a hungry, hungry-man.
The thrill of my appetite.
It is in my stomach that forces me to believe in all things.
My temptation cannot, must not, ever be suppressed.
Nor, can it ever be oppressed or mislead.
I repent.
Therefore, I seek redemption.
Through such slander or accusation,
I bare false witness to.
Not to push, pull or test the limits.
Character is not a question of my dignity,
it is a victory over high maintenance involved.
My body - is in my stomach - a property right.
As I gaze into perfection of a pond that glistens,
avoid eating foods that will not benefit my weight.
Eating smart is healing the stomach.
My diets should not give me negative thoughts,
"related to anxiety".
My independent survival is not the source for
my own confusion.
My stomach deserves premeditation.
My departure is not imminent,
I do not mean to get hurt myself.
Hearing the sound of my own voice I love.
It is a feeling of personal resurrection.
A choice.
Decision.
Challenge.
A sweet sound.
It is the base of my actions.
In leading by example
not waiting for the truth to arrive.
That I observe in such lazy-behavior.
Making myself think bigger
than I really am.
Made up are my thoughts that I am worthy of.
I have made up my mind.
That, I truly I am not unworthy.
The end of my story begins again, and again, and again.
As I keep myself alive and well with the sedation of good-coffee.
I have an untiring persuasion.
A paranoid threshold of intolerance lacking in defeat.
That competetive spirit I force to feed,
the mouth of unparalled yet equal conceit.
This is the nature of my plot,
my story,
requires me to finish in its replenishment.

The asking price

In the name of human error;
I fight for every inch?
Answering my critic!
Reasonably adaquate,
my self-esteem.
I have no indifference to
my solution of protesting-intuition.
My distinction.
My character.
My personality.
With nothing to lose I cut my losses.
No demeaning my redemption.
Not in losing my mind.
Patience is my only virtue unknown to man.
In practice I participate its personal-reward to me.

My Silent Treatment

I do not believe that myth;
make legend?
There is no limit to such:
is my redemption!
I breath with all my joy
and sorrow for its inception
of a happiness in potential.
My carousel of thoughts held between
my sealed lips.
Burning in my mind is the desire.
Revelation.

Winners take time to relish their work, knowing
that scaling the mountain is what makes the view so
exhilerating.

- Denis Waitley

Why I co-operate

Known in the paradise of grapes;
these are my words of caution?
Procedure and to protect I serve,
prevention and contempt!
To rise from beneath the ashes I left behind,
my heart I lift divine.
It reveals my character - truly:
as I learn in letting go.
I address my fear with a survival instinct.
That for I helps me feel the fear and do it anyway.
Thoughts of dreams I become a hero
as I a champion.
My dreams of thoughts.
My potential will not escape me, and the
truth I shall not evade.
To get my full value,
they shall dig for me my grave.
That I weigh the truth,
and color my dreams.

Not about my awareness

Confidence of tears and joy:
eaten alive.
No one wants to do your work for you.
What the old man failed
to figure out,
but failed to accomplish.
My accountability is common sense.
Happy, staying alive.
Content in my volume.
My cause, I play no pretend
course of attitude in trust.
I can feel a calm surrender in my authority
of the truth.
The logic of all my dreams in my secret forest;
an intoxicating blend as time runs through my veins.
I ellicit this as a crazy response!
Without my self-defeat?
It is I in my future.

Instinctive Model

I mean to say nicer things about me
in this weather of my dreams.
Shattered with pride in its glory.
I give the need deep in my heart.
Not a spec of dust on the canvas.
It emits sunshine,
a light from high above.
My curiosity has risen to the storm.
Tranquility running through my veins.
Waiting in the chaos,
petrified in the shadow.

What I am Not

I'm not a crook in my eyes.
The sense of divine-inspiration.
My divine-intervention in thoughts.
Of no gain in monetary wealth or stature.
What is my purpose if not then,
to serve. . .
my bond I own.
I share.
I serve my source for divine-inspiration.
I model of my divine-intervention
that out-sources my material-nature
as a whole.
Spiritually spoken I out-source.
I expect an intensity that not
deteriorates, not that it diminshes in its morality.
I anticipate the need for respect.
I hold time still.

In the valley of my eucalyptus

Washed clean the eyes of my taking-breath.
The most powerful knowledge in the universe is my heart.
Time is not constrained no restraining it.
Truth and solitude are my companion;
to help wipe away my tears?
The healing power:
no-desperation!
I'm not hard done by,
pressed for the luck of my sensitivity.
The vulnerability of my luck.
Because I care, only.
Not torn in the thought I squeeze out from within
the depths of soul-myself.
As quick as an eye drops in thought,
as free as gossip.
Not as easy screaming the charge-false,
this strain I feel.
Out in the open, more
than a million.
I find it in me, a charming difference.
Safely, in assuming my nature is its own reward
that-is.
Playing nice no restless warrior-king myself
king warrior.
Necessary, room-to-burn conduction.
Combustion but not empty-hearted.
I over-analyze in what I say with flowers.