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Blue Funk Logic and reason mean nothing right now. I want to discuss it with no one no how. Everything’s difficult and nothing will work. When I go out in public all I do is the jerk. I sit and I twitch, I quiver and I cry. I barely can lift a tissue to my eye. Last night I slept not and today was the pits. I feel like I’m sittin’ on a thousand one zits. I’m sure I don’t know how my life could be worse, unless someone arrived to pick me up in a hearse. Of course there’s the fact that my battery’s not dead, my sight is still good, there’s a roof over my head. I have food to eat and water to drink. I can still shave my face in the mirror over the sink. My wife still loves me and sometimes at night, I can use the computer if my timing is right. I still have a job where I’m gainfully employed, though sometimes the effort makes it a thing not enjoyed. Now look what I’ve done by spouting all this gunk. I’ve done talked myself out of a pretty blue funk. Marvin Giles