It's happening again. The worst spiral of self-indulgeant depression one can experience. I have been fighting it away for so long that its seems to have manifested into this nagging feeling just below my heart, deeply caged by my ribs and other layers of protection forbidding its departure. My emotions are so indescribably conflicted with my thoughts concerning reason and rationalization. I could babble on forever about what I'm feeling but i guess it just boils down to a search for happiness. What is the real truth to being happy? Is it an actual possibility or should happiness be described merely as a collection of good moments plucked from the constant torment of life?

I think my worst conflict is that I feel justified to feel these feelings and yet so enraged at being so self-centered. I desperatly try to be optimistic and yet every time i catch a glimpse of hope and I feel that i might be able to conjure up the strength to be positive, a slip on the steep slope of a dark tunnel of misery and self loathing. Of course while the whole proceedure feels like a push and pull ambivilance of my soul, it becomes increasingly perpetual. The moment I slip, i begin to degrade myself not only for being selfpityful but also for knowing that I am being this way and that I don't have the courage or the strength to pull myself out of the worldpool.

I think I fear weakness.