Monday, December 14, 2015


That's the thing about depression. It drapes itself in black and never lets you see how fragile and serene it is.
It's perfection. The absolute nothings come together and play a concerto. You cannot move.cannot think. Cannot feel.
In that one hollow vaccum of a moment, you are dust. Nothing. A pile of sobs, smelly clothes, crumpled sheets, stinking dishes, scattered moldering junk. The world loses it's power over you. You lose your power over you. Thoughts, emotions, opinions, expectations, motivation and bullshit.
Hopelessness strums in the background and pain fiddles with the strings. And before you know, you are the puppet dangling from those strings.
And what a macabre performance you give. Your uninhibited unadulterated best!
Remember. Serenity, not sanity.

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