Found a neat blog!

http://onemillionfootnotes.blogspot.com/

Go there, he paints the loveliest word pictures.
I like to paint word pictures but I'm not too good at it.

I wrote this poem a while ago.

Moonlit Night

The silver light plays on silken sea,
Under somber skies and it pleases me.
The reddened clay and the whitened sand
Mix together like the sea and the land.
I look to the north and I look to the south
I taste the salt upon my mouth.
The clouds they float and the wind it blows,
And over it all, the moon it glows.
The waves are strewn with a pretty filigree
Of frothy foam, and it all pleases me.

Here is an extract from my diary.

"I have depression. It makes things very hard sometimes. I can’t seem to get motivated; I’m often tired, sad, depressed, I cry at stupid things, or for no reason, just dissolve into tears standing in the bus queue. It's embarrassing and hard to explain when you do that, so I spend most of my time stressing over whether I can control my emotions in public.

In class I sometimes panic inside or want to scream and cry over a simple failure of a test. It used to be the same at work. I couldn’t seem to remember things and I would stress out and cry over mistakes or reprimands. I’m getting better every day, and one day I shall not remember feeling like this, I hope. I’m sorry if I get you down, but too bad. This is reality.

Its harder, or perhaps only seems harder for me to learn and remember and study than it is for others. But I have a feeling that I just haven't figured out how to study and learn properly.

I used to think I was disabled or something, because I couldn’t explain a few things I’d said or done. I’d have to say ‘I don’t know’ because I didn’t know. People did (and sometimes still do) get impatient or angry with me when I can’t decide on something quick enough or think of the answer in time.
They might understand if I told them but I don’t know. I know its ok, I know I’m going to get better, but they don’t know that and they might not believe me. They might be afraid of me. I’d hate to see that. Pity is ok, it’s a bit humiliating but fear… no I don’t want people to think I’m crazy. Because I’m not crazy. I just know it in my heart."

All that still stands.
I tend to panic when confronted, and I hate change. It rocks my entire world. I cry more than other people I think, but this year I have been quite good. I have written a lot of stories and poems, painted some pictures. Most of them were absolute crap but they all got rid of some of my anger. I'm an artist, but I am not that good. However that doesn't mean I am not an artist.

I still can't understand why I am so angry. It's always there, underneath. It flares up very quickly. One day I want to find out why I get so angry. I have a sneaking suspicion why it is, but I might be wrong.
Thats enough now, I think.

God bless!