Wednesday, April 01, 2009

If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then grief is the door. As long as it is closed, it’s the barrier between knowing and not knowing. Walk away from it and it stays closed forever. But open it and walk through it, and pain becomes truth.

Dexter said that sometime in season two. So true and so life saving. Maybe someone else said that, maybe not an original dexter, though. It’s weird how when you want to do something really bad that your chest keeps thumping loudly you can feel it in your head. So the door is ajar. Lol.

I am not really good in sales, never been. Can’t sell a gaddam thing. Even if I’d sound pathetic and beg. So how do you do convince people? Talent I never had. But yeah, damned if I do, damned if I don’t. So, yeah, I do try. I end up as pathetic as I started. Can’t convince single soul to actually care about mine.

I’m sleepless. Well, not really, I just can’t sleep at night again. So I sleep days. And when I wake up, I decide, there’s really nothing to stay up for. Then I sleep again. And I wake up again. Then I sleep again for the same reason. Then I can’t sleep at night after that. And nights are long and lonely and I try to cry myself to sleep and end up sadder but still can’t sleep until after the sun has come out. Dammit. When I am awake, I think of this thing that makes me sad and I cry. So I try so hard to sleep. And for a time, sleep allowed me to escape. But lately, I even dream about the effin’ things. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.


Really, I would give an arm and a leg to anything that would take away my depression. Yeah, never ever build all your hopes on one thing or one person. Been having one lesson too many on that. But I never learn. Or maybe I did learn but didn’t use the skill on something so promising that came to parade in front of me. I never really was good at resisting. And now, I am suffering the consequences. Again.

Maybe I should step in front of a speeding bus. Or train. But it’s kinda messy and I don’t wanna go that way. dammit.

I hate it when people say, hey, if you don’t look depressed. It’s because I’m a clown. But what am I supposed to do? Sit in a corner and sulk? I do, they’re just never there to see when I do. And when I am with people, do I have a choice? No. I don’t. I have to be okay because I don’t want people to see how looney I really am. Even though everyone knows that I’m a basketcase, I just have to pretend that it’s all okay.

Well, sometimes, yeah, things aren’t always the same. There are days, no, not days, just some hours in a day, that I feel perfectly fine. I can laugh and smile genuinely. But dammit, I will always suddenly see and hear things that remind me how sad and pathetic I am.

Maybe I am more angry than sad. I just hate how this affects everything I do. I can’t work because I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep and I keep bugging my friends again. I don’t wanna be a burden to anyone. I really don’t want that.

Maybe I should get a tattoo. Can you get endorphin shots? Dammit. Imma cry now.

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