“Studies into clinical depression have yielded similar findings, leading to the development of an intriguing, but still controversial, concept known as depressive realism. This theory puts forward the notion that depressed individuals actually have more realistic perceptions of their own image, importance, and abilities than the average person. While it’s still generally accepted that depressed people can be negatively biased in their interpretation of events and information, depressive realism suggests that they are often merely responding rationally to realities that the average person cheerfully denies.”
I think that seeing things too clearly is making me a bit blind to the beauty that’s all around me -- a beauty that needs a healthy dose of that good old gooey bullshit to really shine in the abstract of distraction that makes the lubricant of hopeful wishing attractive -- allowing for a different, and more cuddly, reality a become a possibility -- much like the other classics of spiritual death, morphine, and religion.
I need to throw some muslin over my eyes before making observations, like a faded old starlet, or a puppy in a mill. Life is nasty brutish and short, with death to all that is built and worthy -- but never mind, to be happy is to leave your glasses in the car and your mind buttered, pickled and unused in a random trunk parked, forlornly, at a major, unnamed airport..