An entry in my Journal seemed like ingredient for a poem: So...

Finally waking up from a couple of days of bizarre
      depression. 
          Fear actually.. 
                Fearful depression. I suspect 
I’ll never know who I am, 
             no how to behave. 
Worrying about it is futile, it is and always will be...  
Today in Literature I witness the fading of certain illusions. 
                The realities 
               in my fantasies 
sometimes come into focus and it came rather closer in 
                 the case 
of one of my little dreams. In 
                 any case, 
that little dream has faded and 
             I’m feeling much better and 
                     the two are completely 
                                           unrelated.