depression
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In a rundown Atlantic City bar during a 1978 Nor’easter, a lonely clown reflects on his life while nursing bourbon and chain-smoking. Surrounded by nostalgia and decay, he finds comfort in being back in his hometown, despite personal struggles.
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I’ve gone from composed to compost. I am gradually disintegrating, degrading, degenerating, decomposing, and deteriorating. It’s all alchemy, as my body, mind, soul and spirit melt into a pile of seemingly insignificant slurry. Waiting until the dormant phase is over, I’m dissolving like a caterpillar into an amorphous swirling liquid. Over time, the sludge will
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Has your life ever been halted, the proverbial rug yanked out from beneath your bare feet? Suddenly, you find yourself thrown into the unknown and living in limbo. Forced relocation, job loss, identity theft, illness, accidents, the death of a loved one or even a bad breakup; anything that tosses you out into the atmosphere
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I’m falling deeper into the abyss Drowning out loud I can’t swim anymore Letting go and giving up I’m tired of battling the current Let the waves take me away
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Light fades, Shadows move Silently I fall slow motion Deeper into the abyss A cavernous void, infinite chasm Weightless no sound I continue down Into the otherworld Never landing Floating down forever
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When you’re down , You don’t see up Pressure holds me, Indecision molds me Do something, yet I do nothing.
Lost Art of Mystery 