The Party
The day you have to explain things. A situation you've delayed until you can separate from the apron strings, avoidance. Because this dance is a side chance of a bit of normality. But I don't want to go. You see it's good to talk. About fun times and long walks and memories you cherish. Not ones you want rid of. It's no one fault though. This occasion was the persuasion of a lot of prior effort. So who wants to come? So we talk about depression. The lesson here is don't swallow your obsessions sell them. To the nearest buyer. Quickly. Tell me about your problems son? I'd love to but no thanks mum, we'll leave them Buried. My anxiety is crippling me and the lights are too bright here. Anxiety? Where did that come from? Ah you see, anxiety is the always invited cousin of our first guest big D. They're both coming to the party. But I'm the party. And it's one I don't want to go to. So you go, on your own and please don't ask me anymore. The musics too loud there and I'd rather stay in my lair with a smile on. Please try and enjoy the party. But understand I didnt want an invite. I was forced to go.
