Will I always be like this?

It's a question I ask myself often.

When depression creeps up through my body and I don't want to move.

I don't have a job right now.

But the watercolors are still dry.

The gym membership goes by without a visit.

The bike has collected dust.

Will I ever do the things I want to do?

The things that make me happy?

Or will I wait to enjoy life until it no longer exists?