I'm struggling with depression.

Right now the news is on.  It's CNN... but that doesn't matter.  I see possible pre-emtive strikes; angry, muffled New Orleans denizens struggling to be heard.  I see Guantanamo Bay, Abu Ghraib, Exxon's record-breaking earnings.  And I desperately want a xanax.

I'm troubled what I don't see too: Al-aqsa, Camp Jenin, Charles Taylor, Hamas social work.  This list is too long.

Perhaps I'm more dismayed by what I don't see than what I do.  But I step outside and the sky is like water foamed with clouds.  The cardinals are appearing, red like the crayon named "Spring" would be.  I swallow mouthfuls of air and it chokes my dismay, but doesn't smother it out.  My sadness is a masochistic punishment, maybe cathartic, because I want to know.