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  Why are so many people depressed?
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Unregistered

sandman said:I work part time as a business analyst and I am in a master's degree program at UNR.

The profanity feels good, I use it to be expressive, an occasional four letter toiletry shan't harm.



You live in Nevada, eh? That explains a lot...
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Unregistered

suicide.boi said:See, to me this is like asking "why aren't all of you lumps of shit professional basketball players?"

I don't have the skills to carry on an interesting conversation nor to think positive.

"Why can't you puddles of piss develop X-Ray vision?!"

Insanity. Utter insanity.


:potd:
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Unregistered

. said:It isn't just sean, by the way. All the regs on these boards are drunks who are slowly becoming caracatures of their former selves as their wit dims and fades.
:sadbanana:




Wow, that is depressingly spot on.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

And as for ossifying neural plasticity, there is no such thing. As a person grows older the brain become more plastic. It becomes more efficient.
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Unregistered

Put your faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ, and all will be well!
jem the hologram
stirring

340 posts

sandman said:This is what I am talking about. How is this possible? Look, I understand if people get fucking depressed because occasionally I tuck my knees into my chin and act like a fucking mental patient.

But I love challenge.

I love life because it gives a sense of challenge. I am a pathetically poor sonofabitch who has relied on student loans for nearly ten thousand years, but I have spent so little that my fucking loans aren't that bad considering the expanse of time I've relied on them.

I recently gave a presentation to microsoft (while pathetically using pathetic index cards) and the Team has worked with a few executives over at a SERIOUS TECHNOLOGY COMPANY.

You have a purpose. You are here for a reason.



what are you twelve? you're one out of 68 billion people in this world. what makes you so special? what purpose can you possibly have aside from dying(which can happen tommorrow) and nobody giving a shit?
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Unregistered

sandman said:And as for ossifying neural plasticity, there is no such thing. As a person grows older the brain become more plastic. It becomes more efficient.




completely false, but don't let that stop you.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

. said:You live in Nevada, eh? That explains a lot...



It might. But why must people feel continual depression? What in the hell is that?
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

. said:completely false, but don't let that stop you.



Why project your drinking habits to me?
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Unregistered

jem the hologram said:what are you twelve? you're one out of 68 billion people in this world. what makes you so special? what purpose can you possibly have aside from dying(which can happen tommorrow) and nobody giving a shit?


You are my favourite female reg :flowers:
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Unregistered

jem the hologram said:what are you twelve? you're one out of 68 billion people in this world. what makes you so special? what purpose can you possibly have aside from dying(which can happen tommorrow) and nobody giving a shit?



:lol: I like the bleakness.
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Unregistered

sandman said:
. said:completely false, but don't let that stop you.



Why project your drinking habits to me?




Actually I was going to ask you the same thing, genius.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

jem the hologram said:what are you twelve? you're one out of 68 billion people in this world. what makes you so special? what purpose can you possibly have aside from dying(which can happen tommorrow) and nobody giving a shit?



You likely meant 6.8 billion.

I am not special. I am no snowflake. But I enjoy being alive. I enjoy the fact that I can jump over a small river and entertain a child. I can still use SPSS and do some killer market research.

I can explore. let me repeat: I can fucking explore. I can turn over a stone and find another fossil (as I did in my youth).

There is truly never a reason to be depressed. Challenge yourself and explore. Never compare yourself to another. There are many people who have tons of dough, nice vehicle, great standard of living. You may never be this person, or achieve similar material gain.

But this is ok. Utilize your mind. Explore. There is so much that is undiscovered.

suicide.boi
Unregistered

sandman said:You likely meant 6.8 billion.

I am not special. I am no snowflake. But I enjoy being alive. I enjoy the fact that I can jump over a small river and entertain a child. I can still use SPSS and do some killer market research.

I can explore. let me repeat: I can fucking explore. I can turn over a stone and find another fossil (as I did in my youth).

There is truly never a reason to be depressed. Challenge yourself and explore. Never compare yourself to another. There are many people who have tons of dough, nice vehicle, great standard of living. You may never be this person, or achieve similar material gain.

But this is ok. Utilize your mind. Explore. There is so much that is undiscovered.



It's not worth it; better to give up. :frown:
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Unregistered

sandman said:You likely meant 6.8 billion.

I am not special. I am no snowflake. But I enjoy being alive. I enjoy the fact that I can jump over a small river and entertain a child. I can still use SPSS and do some killer market research.

I can explore. let me repeat: I can fucking explore. I can turn over a stone and find another fossil (as I did in my youth).

There is truly never a reason to be depressed. Challenge yourself and explore. Never compare yourself to another. There are many people who have tons of dough, nice vehicle, great standard of living. You may never be this person, or achieve similar material gain.

But this is ok. Utilize your mind. Explore. There is so much that is undiscovered.


Googling doesn't count.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

. said:Actually I was going to ask you the same thing, genius.



I had not brought alcohol into the topic. I believe you did.

..
Unregistered

sandman said:You likely meant 6.8 billion.

I am not special. I am no snowflake. But I enjoy being alive. I enjoy the fact that I can jump over a small river and entertain a child. I can still use SPSS and do some killer market research.

I can explore. let me repeat: I can fucking explore. I can turn over a stone and find another fossil (as I did in my youth).

There is truly never a reason to be depressed. Challenge yourself and explore. Never compare yourself to another. There are many people who have tons of dough, nice vehicle, great standard of living. You may never be this person, or achieve similar material gain.

But this is ok. Utilize your mind. Explore. There is so much that is undiscovered.



Are you high? Please list the meds that you've been on.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

suicide.boi said:It's not worth it; better to give up. :frown:



It is worth it. Why not put your personal touch upon the world? give it your thumb print and your stamp. Be proud of your contribution.
suicide.boi
Unregistered

sandman said:It is worth it. Why not put your personal touch upon the world? give it your thumb print and your stamp. Be proud of your contribution.



But I'm crap and everybody realises (or will soon realise) it.

I can contribute nothing useful and am a drain on society.

The world would be a better place if I were dead.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

.. said:Are you high? Please list the meds that you've been on.



None.

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Unregistered

I had my first bout of severe depression at about age 11.

Had a total breakdown at 30.

Ask me anything.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

suicide.boi said:See, to me this is like asking "why aren't all of you lumps of shit professional basketball players?"

I don't have the skills to carry on an interesting conversation nor to think positive.

"Why can't you puddles of piss develop X-Ray vision?!"

Insanity. Utter insanity.



You are carrying on an interesting conversation right now.

sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

. said:I had my first bout of severe depression at about age 11.

Had a total breakdown at 30.

Ask me anything.



Mine was far earlier. At approximately age 5 or 6 I had a fever resulting in a temperature of 106. I foamed at the mouth and nearly died. I had to take epileptic medicine for at least a year. About a year later I took a BBQ fork thing and threatened to kill myself right in front of my parents. I must have been seven.

But I survived. And I continue to survive. It is your duty to survive and attempt to bring as much good cheer to those who may need it.

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Unregistered

Treading the dead world under like rats on a wheel. The nights dead still and deader black. So cold. They talked hardly at all. He coughed all the time and the boy watched him spitting blood.

Slumping along. Filthy, ragged, hopeless. He'd stop and lean on the cart and the boy would go on and then stop and look back and he would raise his weeping eyes and see him standing there in the road looking back at him from some unimaginable future, glowing in that waste like a tabernacle.

The road crossed a dried slough where pipes of ice stood out of the frozen mud like formations in a cave. The remains of an old fire by the side of the road. Beyond that a long concrete causeway. A dead swamp. Dead trees standing out of the gray water trailing gray and relic hagmoss. The silky spills of ash against the curbing. He stood leaning on the gritty concrete rail. Perhaps in the world's destruction it would be possible at last to see how it was made. Oceans, mountains. The ponderous counterspectacle of things ceasing to be. The sweeping waste, hydroptic and coldly secular.

The silence.
sandman
Tight Diction

20104 posts

. said:Treading the dead world under like rats on a wheel. The nights dead still and deader black. So cold. They talked hardly at all. He coughed all the time and the boy watched him spitting blood.

Slumping along. Filthy, ragged, hopeless. He'd stop and lean on the cart and the boy would go on and then stop and look back and he would raise his weeping eyes and see him standing there in the road looking back at him from some unimaginable future, glowing in that waste like a tabernacle.

The road crossed a dried slough where pipes of ice stood out of the frozen mud like formations in a cave. The remains of an old fire by the side of the road. Beyond that a long concrete causeway. A dead swamp. Dead trees standing out of the gray water trailing gray and relic hagmoss. The silky spills of ash against the curbing. He stood leaning on the gritty concrete rail. Perhaps in the world's destruction it would be possible at last to see how it was made. Oceans, mountains. The ponderous counterspectacle of things ceasing to be. The sweeping waste, hydroptic and coldly secular.

The silence.



That is talented writing.

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