Somewhere here there is a poem
Yesterday I skated with my brother down Contra Costa at 1 am. We stopped in the Target parking lot to smoke half a cigarette. Drawing the smoke down my throat and into my lungs felt disgustingly unnecessary. I tossed the rest of the pack, 3/4ths full, into a concrete trash bin nearby. They made me feel a little better throughout the year, but
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Depression seems to affect everyone, regardless. We all seem to go through it, and the more time we have spent on contemplating on why, the more we can't find the answer. perhaps depression is rooted in the fact we can't find an explanation for it beyond the fact that we are depressed?
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