I am a mess. Isn't it funny that behind such a stable and seemingly self-sufficient loner's facade we have ruins of hurt, anger, self-pity, disdain and despair? And in fact who does even care? Facade is more than ever enough for the majority of people. Of course it is so much more important what we see - not what it really is. Appearances. My favourite. You still surprised where does disdain come from?

Fickle thing life is. Just the day before yesterday I was sitting with a cup of coffee during my break and having the time of my life. Alone. Really. I was happy and self-sufficient, satisfied and didn't have a care in the world. What changed? Nothing. And here I am again. With all that depressive baggage I seem not to ever get rid off. Is there any point in this? Or it is just some cyclical sadistic way to get me over the edge? To that dark but so attracting place where I'll find peace at last.

Yeah, scary. But as I've said earlier that's winter for me. No light, no hope, no angels with dirty faces. Just this deep bruised hollow hole. Yes, my soul that is.