In infinite time, in the infinity of matter, in infinite space, a bubble–organism separates itself, and that bubble holds out for a while and then bursts, and that bubble is – me.

I hate depression. I am scared of it. Terrified, in fact. But at the same time, it has made me who I am. And if – for me – it is the price of feeling life, it‘s a price always worth paying. I am satisfied just to be.