Depression doesn't exist, read the Qur'an and you'll be fine. I have a theory, the West has sold us this notion that 'depression' is somehow a clinical illness which needs to be treated, thus they rolled out thousands of odd new medicines. The end goal is profit off their lies by selling billions of dollars in depression pills i.e, Prozac and Zoloft. Pharmaceutical companies have generated the most profit than any other industry in modern history, so I don't buy into this Western materialistic illnesses.
QURAN IS A CURE FOR ALL DISEASES, NOT THE WHITE MAN.
Man is a creature so constructed that he is bound to encounter the blues my overweight sister. Let me tell you a sheeko that will knock you right back. In years gone past when you were a toothless kid who wrapped his lips around his mummy's teat and sat in a diaper heavy with a pile of smelly you-know-what, I used to robe myself in a flowing khamees and scrape my head furiously on the floor as I reared my firm buttocks majestically to the sky so the Salafi brothers in the back row might get a little whiff to banish depression.
In this at least you are correct. Uncommonly stupid people suffer less from the blues because existential angst stems from an overactive cerebral cortex whose rapid operations give off a brilliant shower of sparks like fireworks that soar upwards into the night sky to kiss the stars, from the lonely awareness that man is a microscopic atom in a cosmos boundlessly vast in which he must wander for but a small time and then, wearied and fatigued, finally perish. Depression is the mark of the superior creature. When did you last spot a bison with a long face abti?
The mentally defective man with an IQ south of ten never engages his higher cerebral faculties. If one maintains that up where the Invisible Choir sings and the devils frolic sits their very own personal bodyguard who cares about how you wipe your ass and whether you get that dream job with KFC flipping burgers, what does one have to fear? Around the clock bodyguards are an expensive luxury in my neck of the woods.
The world as revealed by modern science, a vast cold wasteland in which the trousered ape is an inconsequential atom for whose endless wars no cosmic power cares throws an intelligent man into life with his hands bound and bids him to swim. He does well if he keeps his head above water. Sometimes I wish I was born as stupid as the towelheads my kindred because Wallahi nothing is blissful as ignorance.
To never be weighed down with thoughts about first and last things is nothing to crow about. Recall that children are happier than adults abti, but wiser they are not. Less time then showing off your gap toothed smile, and perhaps more time thinkiing. I know it's hard, but I will help you.
