It’s another day of being depression’s victim.
I guess I’m survived?
Just for a day.
In the world that full of laughter, here I am faking each one of it.
I don’t think I’m alive.
Well, I’m just breathing.
It was before.
I’m the one who so obsessed with food.
But now I’m rarely can finish my meals. I’m throw up everything I eat. I feel sick.
What does depression has turn me into?
I’m no one to myself, I’m nobody in my own world.
Even when nobody could love me much at least I have me, but I don’t.
I hate myself like other people did.
I see the other side was green, but when I see mine,
Everything getting rotten.
It was dark and it is not a good place to stay.
I was far away from the sea, I found that I don’t need water to feel drowning.
I was far away from the crowd, but I already feel annoyed with everyone’s presence.
I want to be notice, but I want to be left alone too.
I never ask for this.
I never wanted to feel odd and different.
I never wanted to feel like I’m dying.
I just finished crying when I wrote this.
My poor little tears.
They done nothing but I’ve wasted them so much.
My poor little heart.
What have I done to you?
The only thing you do is to pump the blood but here I am giving you so much feeling till yourself can’t handle it.
My poor hands.
I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry that I punch you to the walls and make you wounded. But it seems like you’re easy to heal than what I feel inside.
My poor soul.
You’re getting dark, I’m sorry I can’t give you the light like how it shines you before.
I’m already tired for tomorrow eventhough it haven’t start yet.
Can you leave me alone for tomorrow?
I just wanna feel alive, again.
Alive and happy.
My birthday will be on the Friday, next week.
But I have nothing to look up to.
It just a birthday for a poor soul. A lost soul. A pathetic soul.
I’m questioning people’s decision before that they ended up to choose suicide.
It was a fool options.
Isn’t that the right thing?