Letter

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Go to the places where the water whispers sweet nothings as you watch. With just enough hope that time will pass faster than the previous seconds. Looking to the sky as the clouds take shape of all of your emotions. Suddenly, everything seems to revolve around the way you feel. Which people think that is what I want lately. For it all to revolve around me. Why would I want that? For attention? No. I don’t know what I’d do with a bunch of attention. I think I’d ask everyone to quiet down, actually. Everything’s too loud for me. But the silence inside my scars, to the steps I hardly take in a day because there’s no where to go is all I have left. The only reason I spoke of the depression was to teach people what I was going through. To try and help them. When I got exhausted of talking about it myself I realized, “If I am still talking about it then that means someone’s still not getting it,” or maybe no one was. It doesn’t matter anymore. Sometimes this loneliness can be unbearable though. The creaks in the floors and walls are what keep me company. Or music. Music notes float around my room bouncing around with the beat of song, I still smile. But not as much. I feel like I’m underwater, reaching for that last breath because that’s the only thing I know how to still do. But no one’s there to pull me up. I wonder if they’d even try. I’ve had so many suicide attempts that I really think that certain people want me to get it over with. I was worried that might happen. And I’m out of ideas of how to take my life. I wear these two rings, one representing the past and one the future. There’s supposed to be a third representing the present that I threw away because I’m never there. I’m always stuck in the past or dreaming for a better future and for the second I go back to the present it makes me think. Think of everything I’ve got to do, have done and yet to think about. It’s ok though, I smile. I smile with a glass shield over my eyes with the reverse support of glasses. These hep me go into my daze, let me out to a place I desperately need but reluctantly go. If I were a nice man, would you show me a nice world? And if I were a temptress would you show me a world free or temptation or full of it? What about if I were just a girl? A girl in a complex world that can’t figure anything out. Would you help me? Or would you say something nice and turn to laugh because I deserve this horribly unfortunate disorder? And what if I had six disorders? My lucky number is seven so I’m sure I’m missing one. I used to think that if the world didn’t have to suffer this way then I was ok taking on all of these mental setbacks, if you will. Fuck that. It’s been over fifteen years and I want it gone. I’d do anything. Anything for a real smile. Anything but to not tear up as I lose another friend. Anything for what I used to be. Someone once wrote a letter to me saying I had wit, beauty and altruistic sincerity. But I’m lost, so far lost that all I do is sit here with my bit of hope. Hope that tomorrow might be better.

 

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