chi-ch-chi-chi- hah-hah-hah-hah

I almost drowned once when I was eight. That memory will be one of the few that flashes before my eyes when I die. I remember almost everything about it. I used to think that depression was a lot like drowning...struggle, struggle, struggle, get up for air, choke on water, and back down you go. But now I'm thinking that depression is more like a horror movie. Trying to escape depression is like being the big-breasted, slutty sorority girl running frantically in high heels and panties, screaming, crying, and falling down a lot. And depression is like Mike Myers, slowly stalking you with a big, bloody machete in his hand. But what he doesn't know is that the girls who ain't gettin' any always win out in the end...