I Am Depressed

I am sitting here in this 3x5 prison cell called Pynchon, somewhere south of the border called Pynchon, marking months off like days, off the calendar called Pynchon. I have isolated and identified this depression which sits in the corner and threatens to take up all the air, all the warmth, indeed all of the molecular space in this extremely limited space I am condemned to. I have given a name to this being, my enemy, and its name is Pynchon.