One Way Mirrors

As I've gone about the detective work of trying to get to the bottom of my current bout with despondency (that's Orthodox language for "depression"), I've been looking over all the usual suspects like a police lineup. They are a diverse and sometimes vexatious group of thugs. And yet, the more I pace back and forth giving them the once over through the one-way mirrors, the more harmless they all seem. Unlike an actual police lineup, I know most of their names: Genetics. Upbringing. Pop Culture. Junk Food. Circumstances. TV. Chance. Boredom. Technology. Responsibility. Duty. Urbanism. Suburbanism. Sectarianism. Nationalism. Fatalism. There are a few characters I can't quite make out because they're always looking down, shifting their weight from one foot to the other and wiping their noses. But it doesn't matter, because after reading A Serbian Grandmother on Confession I realize the criminal is on this side of the one-way mirrors.