Tied up at the officeMore Like This
It was Tuesday. Tuesday was a lot of things in the lair of B. For Donna it was, well mostly another day at the office. An office where she also just happened to live.
For Donna Muffletine, secretary extraordinaire. What was more important then the fact it was Tuesday was which date and what time, exactly, you were talking about. Punctuality, neatness and facts were her bread and butter. Traits certainly appreciated by Tarja, the resident grouch. Or, perhaps not so much the grouch as the anchor that kept a boat full of crazies from shooting off into space. It really depended on how you looked at it.
To Donna a Tuesday was a list of appointments, schedules and phone call. Or rather e-mails, as Donna tended to have a habit of wearing ball gags during work hours, making actual conversations a series of mumbles and the other party looking confused. Coupled with the eerie feeling that whatever Donna just said, was probably right.
Then there where Meetings. Sometimes a meeting was simpl
Depression is an OptionDepression is a choice, my dear,More Like This
And happiness the same
You choose this illness, don’t you?
What a tragic little game.
Depression is an option, love
Just get up out of bed
Take your tears and worries
And just smile now instead.
Depression is a choice, you see,
And so is suicide.
Just sit back, kick your feet up, dear
Enjoy this perfect ride.
Get over your own standards
Of what everyone should be.
Just smile for once, and maybe
You’ll be living perfectly.
Depression is an illness
That we feel so deep within.
Why would anybody choose
To write poetry on their skin?
Unless there lies a reason, dear,
I would not choose to die.
If depression was an option...
I’d choose to say goodbye.