Depressing Post - Blog Posts

Low and low, I sink

lo and behold, I crumble.

Tfw you hate yourself so much it makes you nauseous.

Tfw everything's your fault.

Tfw you're too afraid of death to want to die but highkey wish you never existed.

Yk tf?

- ( 🛹 )

𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦,𝘭𝘰 𝘴𝘰.𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘳𝘪,𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘯 𝘱𝘰̀ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘰.𝘘𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘻𝘻𝘰...𝘕𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦.𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰,𝘮𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦.𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦̀ 𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘪̀...𝘔𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘢̀ 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰 𝘴𝘢..𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘢 𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘣𝘦.𝘝𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦 𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦.

𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘳𝘦.𝘚𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪 𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘳𝘪.𝘔𝘪 𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘪̀ 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰...𝘝𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘶̀ 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦..

𝘔𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦̀ 𝘮𝘪 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘰 ??𝘎𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘳𝘪 𝘷𝘰𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘰𝘪𝘢 𝘦𝘥 𝘦̀ 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘰̀.𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰̀ 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰,𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰.

𝘐𝘦𝘳𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘷𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘦.𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘰 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪 𝘥𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦.𝘐𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘢.𝘗𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰 ,𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘵𝘰.𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦.𝘓𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘢,𝘮𝘪 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘰̀ 𝘪𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦 𝘮𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘰̀ 𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦...

𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦.𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘰.𝘓𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢 𝘧𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘰 𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘰.𝘔𝘪 𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘪̀ 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘢̀ 𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘦̀ 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘰,𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦...𝘕𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘪 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢̀..

𝘈 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘥𝘪 𝘮𝘦 𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦.𝘓𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦..𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦̀ 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦,𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦̀ 𝘧𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘰.𝘕𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘦̀ 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘦,𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪 𝘷𝘶𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰.

𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰,𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘶𝘯 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘦..𝘕𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘶𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘳𝘦.𝘔𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘪̀ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘳𝘪.𝘕𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦..𝘕𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘦.

𝘛𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪 𝘮𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘰,𝘮𝘪 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘰..𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘰.𝘐𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘰.𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘰,𝘶𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘴𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘢..

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘳𝘰̀ 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰...

What is family if not hate disguised as love

Fate

“Why is this all happening?”

“It’s your fate”

“Can I change my fate?”

“You can’t change what’s written for you.”

Maybe we're all tragedies,

Covered in skins

too stubborn to be tragic.

I wish someone would pick me up,

And decide

This one

This one deserves to be loved

In a way

Only hurricanes ever were.

3/idk, follow and reblog to support

Hiányzol

Egyszer jobb lesz

Ülni az ágy szélén és csak sírni azon, hogy vajon mi lesz

The Portal

There's a depressed person that lives across from me.

Their window curtains are always open, and various-luscious-plants lie in front of the portal.

Every morning, I see them lay in bed. They hope that they can sleep all day, but they always wake up and soulessly wonder about.

It's 11:57a.m.

It's a sad sight to see, it's only a kid.

The melancholy in each sigh, and waning step.

The tears that stream down their face everyday grow heavier and louder as the weeks progress.

One afternoon, I could hear them crying.

I still saw them through that damn window.

Just laying in bed. Face red, swolen, and lost.

They looked like they were already dead.

Sometimes I swear they'd see me staring back through the portal, but they never really seemed to care.

Then, the third week of April came around. Their cries were silent, sinking deep into themself, forever leaving prints on their skin (in the wrinkles of their face and in the scars that they bore)

They repeated, over and over, "I'm okay. I'm okay. It's okay. I'm fine. I'm fine."

They lied to themself. Everyday.

Sometimes, when I'd catch a glance

They're full of horrible rage; cursing, yelling, punching walls, pushing others away, pulling out their own hair.

Regret.

Apathy.

Guilt.

Emptiness.

Words escape with toxic venom and force, without a second thought.

The storm that followed them would always fall apart and sink once the door to their bedroom closed.

They, too, would always fall apart and sink.

It was like the door cut off the gasoline that fueled the fire.

And instead--settled the fog and ashes into the cold hardwood floor. Staining the once whole shattered glass.

They pleaded with a higher being that they did not believe in.

But nobody came. No one could clear the cinders or the ash or glass or dust that lay on the floor or their silvery, charred skin.

Then they'd stare into the portal--at me.

And I'd stare back--at myself.

//posting this on instagram as i usually do would make me look like an attention whore so i'm just gonna write everything here bc i know no one's ever gonna read it - looks like i'm being overdramatic and complaining for nothing but i've been keeping this for myself for too long\\ + /!\tw: mentions of self-harm and suicide/!\

it's 12am and i've been crying for a few hours and every new thought i have, every single thing i look at makes me cry some more. i know i've been feeling down for years and even worse this year and a literal hell since i moved here alone, but the last few days have been the worst so far. i don't even know where to start, this life is just a fucking mess and i can't keep that weight on my shoulders anymore. it feels like i'm wandering alone as i've always been and whenever i hit rock bottom it somehow gets worse. whatever makes me happy one day is gonna destroy me the next one.

every time i get a call from my family or even when they visit, i tell them that everything's fine, the neighborhood is not so bad, school is really great and i'm making friends. friends, i tell them i'm good, not at my best but not at my worst either, no i don't own a cat but these little cuts are nothing to worry about and no worries because i can handle it. when really i've been walking around in this damn apartment for a week now and it made me lose it. i haven't eaten anything since last week (not a real meal at least, just some dumb stuff here and there), i cry myself to sleep every night, i listen to the same triggering songs on repeat, i go crazy and hide myself whenever someone's yelling in my street because it scares me, i lay in bed all day and night doing nothing and blankly staring at the ceiling, it makes me realize how i don't really have anyone by my side, someone that knows and that can act on it, no one to ease my pain as it's no one's role. also i've been sick for a few days now so i couldn't even get out of bed, i'm completely dehydrated from the crying and sweating because my body really shouldn't be reaching such a high temperature, my throat is burning, i'm starving but it just makes me feel very nauseous so i won't eat, and i woke up 4 times last night, i had hallucinations on the 4th time. when i finally got up i could barely walk and i found myself wondering where i was, i was feeling high and lost, i nearly fell in the hallway while being dizzy and trying to figure things out. i also noticed that no one's talked to me in days, except the few people i texted first and it certainly isn't helping me.

i usually spend most of my days daydreaming to escape reality but a week ago it changed and my mind's been busy with something else. i haven't been able to daydream since and i'm just forced to face my thoughts and the reality around me. so today after sitting and crying on my desk for a few hours, i just lost it, felt the need to yell and destroy everything, smash the furniture, burn the drawings, break every single object i own and used to enjoy. i didn't do any of this, but i wish i did. i'm usually dissociated from reality and now that i'm faced with it, it just makes no sense and it's driving me crazy. i thought about getting drunk, or taking too many pills, or cut some more, whatever. and then i burst into tears again and fell on my bed as i realized that it would take days, even weeks, before someone notices that i'm missing. they couldn't care less, everyone's busy with their own issues as it should be.

i keep telling myself that we all deal with some really fucked up shit, but i'm the weak one that just can't manage. the others are not breaking down like this, driving themselves crazy, or maybe they are but i can't see it. and i'm just a mess, i can't handle this. i hate this place, i'm scared of this creepy neighborhood, i'm failing all my classes, i'm not able to take care of myself - never been -, i've got no one to tell this to so i'm writing it on this dumb website and it's gonna be lost forever, i never had anyone by my side, i've been letting this loneliness kill me softly for years, the fact that no one's ever been interested in me confirms my thoughts about myself, whatever i bought to fill up this apartment is not me, my drawings are not art, they're just pieces of paper i covered to ask for help but it never fixed anything; just watch me give up and let go of this. it makes no sense anyway, i've only ever lived in my head but it's poisoned and i just can't keep going. i was never meant to be a part of this, nothing ever felt right - and what did just left me - and all of this just feels like i'll keep messing up again and again until the end.

i'm exhausted.

I wish i could be someone better, someone people can rely to, but sometimes it gets so dark inside my head to the point where I can’t see anyone else

Another one of those days in which I wish i could take my own life, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it

“Do what you can, but nothing will take your pain away when you realize you're not truly loved by anyone.”

Loneliness in Cities

Art Medium : Charcoal Drama : My Liberation Notes (2022)

When your friend or ex-friend now says they don’t wanna be friends anymore because they find you too talkative and annoying

But you have to pretend you’re not gonna cry when she doesn’t sit next to you in your first class and you think she blocked you

depression makes everything feel so grey. the color has been sucked out of me & my world.

📜🖋🍂

Once upon a time there was a girl,

She didn't like who she was.

She didn't like the way she looked,

She didn't like the way she behaved,

She didn't like the way she thought.

She was always imperfect for her.

Once upon a time there was a girl,

Who always wanted to be someone else and would have given anything to make this happen,

Because in her skin she felt invisible, unappreciated, unloved.

This may have changed if she had accepted the love of others justly,

But she couldn't,

It was hard for her because she didn't love herself,

And the love from others seemed unfair to her to have.

Once upon a time there was a girl,

Who only had one friend.

She felt at home when she was with her,

But they haven't seen each other in months,

And remote communication was hard to maintain.

When she was alone it was a torment.

At that moment all thoughts rushed creating unreal worries but he could not escape:

"What if you did the wrong thing?"

"You're not good enough."

"The people you passed by earlier started laughing ... they were laughing at you."

"You look horrible!"

All this was like a rising water.

She felt like she was drowning.

Needing to breathe, her subconscious told her to take a deep breath, a thought she struggled with because you couldn't breathe underwater.

She felt trapped, her own prisoner, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Once upon a time there was a girl,

Who forgot how to love,

She forgot the feeling of being in love.

She forgot how to love love.

She was afraid to fall in love,

She was afraid to love.

That's why she kept the world at bay and moved away from everyone.

She felt like she was building a wall between herself and the others.

She didn't feel sad, but she wasn't happy either.

All she felt was security.

She wished she could feel those butterflies in her stomach,

But at the same time, she was terrified of the idea.

She wished she could feel the warmth of someone next to her,

But at the same time she liked the coolness in which she found himself.

She was lost in a maze of her emotions and didn't want to shoot anyone with her,

That's why she drove everyone away.

For her, love was like a new universe, and no matter how much she wanted to explore it, she was too afraid.

Once upon a time there was a girl,

Which wherever she was she did not feel at home.

She wanted to go home,

But she didn't feel at home at home either.

Wherever she was, she felt like a stranger,

A tourist in a space that does not deserve to be, surrounded by critical looks that judged her every move.

She wanted a place for her, but she couldn't find it;

She wanted to feel safe, but she didn't feel;

She wanted a house, but she didn't have one.

The only place that was closest to "home" was the place he saw only in his imagination,

Where she felt safe,

Where she was the person she always wanted to be.

But it hurt.

The feeling she had when she returned to reality hurt;

Sadness, anger, disappointment,

It all overwhelmed her and made her feel like she was drowning again,

Until she took it from the beginning again, imagining.

It was like a drug.

The most beautiful and painful drug the girl could not part with no matter how hard she tried.

And she knows that because she tried,

But she couldn't.

She was always pulled back by the awful feeling of peace, tranquility, security ... at home.

Once upon a time there was a girl,

Who needed help ...

But he didn't know who to ask.

Ok, so, I am sorry if my english is bad. It's my second language, but anyway here is the version written in my language:

A fost odată o fată,

Ei nu îi plăcea cine era.

Nu îi placea cum arăta, nu îi plăcea cum se comporta, nu îi plăcea cum gândea.

Pentru ea a fost mereu imperfectă.

A fost odată o fată,

Care mereu și-a dorit să fie altcineva și ar fi dat orice pentru ca acest lucru să se fi întâmplat,

Pentru că în pielea ei se simțea invizibilă, neapreciată, neiubită.

Acest lucru poate s-ar fi schimbat dacă ar fi acceptat iubea celorlalți din just,

Dar nu putea,

Îi era greu deoarece nu se iubea pe ea insăşi,

Iar dragostea din partea celorlalți I se părea nedrept pentru a o avea.

A fost odată o fată,

Care avea doar o prietenă.

Se simțea acasă când era cu ea,

Dar nu s-au mai văzut de luni întregi,

Iar comunicarea de la distanță era un lucru greu de menținut.

Când era singură era un chin.

În acel moment toate gândurile năvăleau creând griji ireale dar de care nu putea scăpa:

"Dacă ai făcut acel lucru greşit?"

"Nu eşti suficient de bună."

"Persoanele pe lângă care ai trecut mai devreme au început să râdă...râdeau de tine."

"Arăți oribil!"

Toate acestea erau ca o apă în continuă creșterea.

Simțea că se îneacă.

Având nevoie să respire subconştientul ei îi spunea să tragă o gură de aer, gând cu care se lupta deoarece nu poți respira sub apă.

Se simțea blocată, propria prizonieră și nu putea face nimic în legătură cu asta.

A fost odată o fată,

Care a uitat cum se iubeşte,

A uitat sentimentul de a fi indrăgostit.

A uitat cum să iubească iubirea.

Îi era frică a se indrăgosti,

Îi era frică a iubi.

De aceea ținea lumea la distanță și se indepărta de toți.

Simțea ca și cum construia un zid între ea și ceilalți.

Nu se simțea tristă dar nu era nici fericită.

Tot ce simțea era siguranță.

Ea și-ar fi dorit să simtă acei fluturi în stomac,

Dar în același timp era inspăimântată de idee.

Și-ar fi dorit să simtă căldura cuiva lângă ea,

Dar în același timp îi plăcea răcoarea în care se afla.

Era pierdută într-un labirint al emotiilor ei și nu dorea să tragă pe nimeni alături de ea,

De aceea îndeparta pe toată lumea.

Pentru ea iubirea era ca un univers nou și oricât de mult și-ar fi dorit să îl exploreze îi era mult prea teamă.

A fost odată o fată,

Care oriunde se afla nu se simțea acasă.

Dorea să meargă acasă,

Dar nici acasă nu se mai simțea acasă.

În orice loc în care se afla se simțea străină,

Un turist pe un spațiu care nu I se cuvine înconjurat de priviri critice care îi judecau fiecare mişcare.

Își dorea un loc al ei, dar nu îl putea găsi;

Dorea să se simtă în siguranță, dar nu se simțea;

Ar fi vrut o casă, dar nu o avea.

Singurul loc care era cel mai apropiat de "acasă" era locul pe care îl vedea doar în imaginația sa,

Acolo unde se simțea în siguranță,

Acolo unde era persoana care și-ar fi dorit din totdeauna să fie.

Dar durea.

Durea sentimentul pe care îl avea atunci când se întorcea la realitate;

Tristețea, furia, dezamăgirea,

Toate o copleşeau și o făceau din nou să se simtă ca și cum s-ar îneca,

Până când o lua iar de la capăt, imaginându-şi.

Era ca un drog.

Cel mai frumos și dureros drog de care fata nu se putea despărții oricât ar fi încercat.

Și ea știe asta pentru că a încercat,

Dar nu a putut.

Era mereu trasă înapoi de îngrozitorul de frumos sentiment de pace, linişte, siguranță...acasă.

A fost odată o fată,

Care avea nevoie de ajutor...

Dar nu știa cui să il ceară.

Here’s the thing about my depression, I don’t wanna die but I don’t wanna live.

I just wanna go into a very long coma.

The Morose Pentameter

A lonely night, drowned in tears

But by sunrise, I am drained dry

My ailing heart cannot forget the years

I burned away with lies and pride

The blade could whisper across the flesh

But instead it shrieks into forsaken veins

I'm grown and gone, my comforts left

No longer crave I the relief, but the pain

I do not fear the void's siren song

Close to the edge, I wait to fall

One more time, one more step wrong

I'll meet the fate that awaits us all

We will meet with shadows and a lovers sigh

And comes the last of many days I wished to die

A crusade that passed through me

While I was in the capital of gloom, a crusade passed by in the form of a woman, and the heart became under mandate, unable to respond against the colonial power. A mixture of sweetness and torment. She has the face of an angel and the stab of a warrior who opens the bolts of consciousness. She opens a door, enters the chest and struts in its left side, and when the full moon appears from between the clouds, she looks up as if she were looking at a mirror. She took from the gazelle, impudence and suspicion, and from the Arabian horses, stubbornness and strut. And now after her invasion, I suffer from love, alienation, and ill fortune. I am the hawk I am the knight I am the poet And she is my punishment.

By : Jamal Bander

Wondering who you are?

You’re the purple scar that appears for no reason,

The images that give rise to nostalgia without features,

You are the ecstasy that did not complete,

A torment that lasted for an entire lifetime.

You...

You're like a trip I’ve been saving for months,

and when it was time to go,

I felt a desire not to leave.

I saw her alone,

emaciated, heavy-eyed, really tired,

I asked her "who do you love ?"

Who wounded your heart and torn it?

Who melted your eyes in the nights and made you restless?

She said: Do not blame him.

He doesn't know that my heart adores him,

I've secretly loved him for months,

My heart has died of yearning.

Wondering who you are?

You’re the purple scar that appears for no reason,

The images that give rise to nostalgia without features,

You are the ecstasy that did not complete,

A torment that lasted for an entire lifetime.

You...

You're like a trip I’ve been saving for months,

and when it was time to go,

I felt a desire not to leave.

Have you ever had a crush? Have you ever felt a rush? Makes my heart stop, she didn't even blush And I got a crush Oh man I got a crush Got a psychedelic dagger in my heart, tell the paramedics to rush

I hate crushes, I cover bruises with paintbrushes Pour it all in the music now that my bank's ruptured

She never texts me, she never texts me, she never texts me Never texts me, she never texts me, forgot to text me

Well I guess we accept the ones that neglect us And my moms say that we disrespect the ones that perfect us And try to protect us

I really hope that you get this My thoughts are weighin' me down My neck can't handle the necklace Your father says that I'm reckless, I didn't cause all that wreckage

had to give you this message I wrote it straight from the soul and it didn't make sense to text it So I snuck up in your room, put it on your shoulder and in return You sent me back a restraining order.

Jaden - let it breath

"I deliberately read the writings of the miserable, the missing, and those whose hearts are broken, I read their cries to make me cry with them. My alphabet no longer accommodates this huge amount of sadness, so I started looking for someone to share it with me. It is a disaster to search for yourself in the writings of others, a disaster to lose yourself to this extent."

-unknown

You who pass between our fleeting words

Like bitter dust, pass wherever you want, but do not pass between us like flying insects

Take the past if you like, to the antiques market

Stack your illusions in a deserted hole, and go!

And reside wherever you like, but do not reside among us. It is time for you to depart and die wherever you wish, but do not die among us.

So get out of our land, from our sea, from our wheat, from our salt, from everything that has wounded us, and be erased from the vocabulary of memory.

Look Milena,

"I love you the most." I say, but maybe that's not true love.

If i say, "You are the knife I turn inside myself", maybe I would be explaining true love.

And Milena, I can bear anything with you in my heart.

| Franz Kafka