Dye or Dirt?

Today I finally washed a pouch that I bought from Sapa, Vietnam. I had previously been using it to carry around my diary and a pen, and other small things. Today as I hand washed it, copious amounts of blue dye came out (come to think of it, maybe it's the local natural dye they use for colouring their own clothes dark blue), colouring the soapy water blue. Now hours later, after it's dried, I realised the fecking thing has actually changed colour: it's now several shades lighter, sort of like a turquoise kind of colour from dark blue. Amazing. Of course now I'm left to wonder whether it was dirt that made the pouch so dark coloured, or whether it was simply layers and layers of caked dirt because those villagers weren't exactly known for their high state of cleanliness.

I'm back to being super frustrated and dissatisfied with everything that my life entails again. Nothing new really, it's sort of like my 2nd default setting (1st being satisfied at merely coasting along life). But I'm more frustrated this time because of this one person I know, who's been depressed for quite sometime, is still depressed and in my view, refusing to help herself. She refuses to go for counselling, refuses to take medication, flat out refuses to do anything that might alleviate the problem. And it's affecting my friends, her flatmates. Am I being harsh on her? Yes, totally. Considering that I fight with depression all the time, it might seem rich coming from me, but on the other hand if I'm not hard on myself to fight my depression I'd just let it win all the time - and spend my whole life looking on from my bed. Depression can only be solved within oneself, and if you're refusing to address it even after such a prolonged period (anything more than 6 months), then well you're just letting it win, so in a way I think it is kind of fair to say that you're just wallowing in yourself and not doing anything.

Of course being the coward I am, I'd never say it to her.

I'm sick of all of this.