Tribe.net. Local Connections libramoon http://betterhumans.tribe.net/thread/75d89c54-2483-44d5-862e-37ba4126aa00#b71120c6-485d-41ad-8e0e-3f5e749b32c7 2007-01-29T00:15:46Z 2007-01-29T00:15:46Z

The Malaise Theory of Depression The lies we tell ourselves tinted in our private colors creating intricate maps, instructions to hold us against our will or better angels upon a designated course, they creep into our chemical soup and wiring immersed in thickening trickery truth becoming shadow. Rolling downhill so easily scratches, contusions, bleeding wounds unacknowledged in subterfuge "It's such a beautiful summer day." We say, etching out smiles, even crinkles of the eye. Alone, in the dark, troubling dreams fail to dissipate at daybreak. Rolling downhill, smashing into hidden walls, jagged rock formations Stop! Curl into pre-born refuge. Listening to the angry words "Surely I am cursed, a failure." Never let the truth break through. We are ordered to protect the lies as insidiously they poison and blind us. More easily led. Less alive. Stop! Look! Listen! Feel! Underneath the grave of lies rich earth has secrets to reveal. Radiant seed, planted in our birth only we may bring to life, if we dare move, beyond the damage, beyond the lies, dancing with the shadows into brighter days. (c) January 28, 2007 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

libramoon 2007-01-29T00:15:46Z