Counting Sheep: A self evaluation and diagnosis report.

In the east,
The sun rises with the translucent promise of another dawn.

Championship racer,
I loathe to rev my engine for one more circuit of this emptiness.
This flatulent rat race has chipped away
at the vestiges of my soul for far too long.
I just wanna curl in,
Lay in my bed
And count sheep.

Twitter MD says these are the gospels of depression.
I am not depressed.

I just feel like my life is a candle burnt out at both ends,
like capitalism is pressing my neck to the curb and I’m George Floyd,
I feel like this adult thing is going 12 rounds with me and I’m losing the fight,
like I ought to be shaking my ass on a yatch off the coast of Dubai without a care in the world.
But depression? No.

Popular culture says you have to be:
non functional
joyless
low — spirited…
to be depressed.
I am the life of the party.

Report of self evaluation and diagnosis:
I’m not depressed
Because what is depression
when you’ve got bills to pay?
What is depression
When Meffy is after your life?
What is depression
When you’re a hard Nigerian guy?
What is depression when…?