Depressing Letters to Myself (One)

Ever gotten your way of getting through depression ignored?

Well- not through, I don't suppose there's a way through/out of it, now is there? Yes, I don't think so, it's just there. Stuck with you- think about it. Like a leech, a parasite of some sort- and yes, it drains you out, just like any other thing that's attached to you. It drains you physically, mentally, emotionally, internally, externally, and whatever else is there. It'll drain you out and then one day, you'd just have nothing with you. Nothing with you or in you or on you, just a blank empty thing. In an artistic way, a blank canvas; actually, maybe a re-coated white canvas (if that made any sense).

Now, no matter what you (or in this case, I) do, you're not going to get rid of it. Sounds very optimistic, does it? Not that I've wanted to discourage you, but I might as well save you some hope, right? At this point, I'm just talking to myself (and someone else in my head, who never seemed to be very helpful) and I like to keep it that way. I'm never going to get rid of it and I'm saving up my hope to buy me some other lie-lipop.

I'm not going to get through it and it's so easy to just say (or type) these. I can run around with a sign saying: I'm depressed and I'll never get rid of it. It'll be a fun thing (maybe) because one, at least I'd be outside and two, everyone will know me for that sulking little girl that no one cares about really. Oh well, who am I kidding? I'm not supposed to pick on myself (it's technically me, not you) but I'm supposed to write something 'I'd read in the future and be happy I haven't killed myself... yet'. Then again, I'm never going to get through depression. Nor will I live with it (albeit, I suppose I currently am, against my will), or get rid of it. But does that limit me to going around it? Alright, I know, it sounds so much like gibberish, I should just shut up now- but give me a second, because even I do not know how to explain this.

I'm going around it- in what way, you may ask? Well, I do not know myself. How will you get through it? By ignoring facts and just suck it up, then start doing what others are (living with it)? Or get professional help and be called out as crazed, because, seriously, what the hell's wrong with me? A minute I'd think about wanting to give Death this early date we aren't supposed to have in like 50 years or so, then I'd go about, "Oh shit. What the fuck am I doing? This damned playlist is absolutely not helping with me wanting to be happy." Some would call it bipolarity, I'd call it stupidity because that's what my friends would want me to see it. Want me to see it in a way that it's completely abnormal to switch up sides then call it out to being a broody little bitch. I mean, come on now, I'm just playing my games of perspectives. But perspectives are for another time (maybe a few seconds after this). For now, I'll talk about my (bull)'shitty' ways of (ignoring//denying) dealing depression.

One

I don't go looking for something I'd like to do- because even I, myself, does not know what I like. So, what exactly am I supposed to do? Waste time browsing through pointless Tumblr posts, liking some Instagram pictures, listen to that presidential debate thing. It's not all a complete waste, I'd want to get that out, but what the hell am I supposed to do with it? Browse and browse and browse and browse- the internet will never stop, but I've done it. I've browsed and browsed (and browsed and browsed) but I haven't seen anything that I like. At times I'd find myself browsing through some 'Adolf Hitler is good' articles or some 'Stranger Things Season 2 Might Not Include Our Favourite Eleven'; but my damned interest never stayed too long on those. I've wasted so much time trying- and I'm sure I've still got a lot of time (unless tragic things happen, but let's not do that) to keep trying, but for how much longer?

Two

I learned that I'm not your patient person. I'm not that, "Oh my gods, patience is a virtue, young grasshopper. Stop stressing and let time slip from you." Oh hell no, I am not. Time's too precious for me to waste (and yes, a few minutes after typing this, I'd be facing the wall thinking about wanting to cut my time short). But- I just, why... Browsing, wasting... Ah, whatever. It is confirmed, that isn't exactly my style of living with Death. Anyhow, what is my second way? I know it was here, somewhere... Aha, find my happiness? Wait- what's that, my voice from inside might ask. Oh, I don't know really, because I'm never really happy with anything.

Unless I'm the best at this particular thing. Let us say, poetry- I love that, it's my soul (but I've sold it to Death) and I just want to cuddle up with it by the fire, eating s'mores (I'm kidding, I hate those), and just a bunch of stupid little stories. Sounds like an ideal date to me, but, poetry's something I can't date. It's not something that I own (or am married to), so I can't exactly be just the only person into poetry, right? I love to think that I'm the best at poetry (and yes, I do think I am the best), but now that there are so many others out there- I feel like I've been pushed off of my made-up throne, stripped off my royal clothes, then kicked out of my own palace. I'm nothing if I'm not the best, and slowly, everything's just being ripped away from me.

Three

Talking about poetry- let's chitchat about writing in general. I love that, yes I do. And I love keeping myself busy with it- might I say I love doing it (therefore, I found happiness?). But, there's this bit of a problem- something called writer's block. Yeah, heard of it? Luck to you if you haven't, but to those who have, it's quite annoying, isn't it? There's another version, reader's block- something annoying as well if you've promised to read 100 books this year. Back to writing, it's so annoying when that happens. Oh sure, I'm just going to write and write and write- then wait, I'll delete that bit, that's not important, then write again. Suddenly- oh so sudden, oh so soon, words punched you on the face; all just scrambling out of your brain and out of your laptop. Damn it! Stop pressing backspace, you've deleted everything.

At this point, I don't know what I'm saying. Maybe cause it's 11:22 PM and I haven't gotten myself some rest- ah, whatever. But yes, writer's block is just an arsehole who's jelly about you writing so much, so they decided to Mean Girls their way through your ideas (the middle salutes you). Ah- oh well, at least we've found a starting base for this depression thing, right?

End

And I'm tired. That's it, stay tuned to the next one, it'll be out in a few weeks (or days, if I remember). I'll try to keep this whole small segment a bit of a humourous script, so yes, expect a bit more stupid jokes or something. Oh wow, I've cursed in this- sorry if it bothered you; I'll lessen it on the next one. I'll probably call this one: Depressing Letters to Myself or something. Maybe not, it's not really letters is it? Maybe I should put it in the letter style; I'm going to Perks of Being a Wallflower it. Anyhow, I'm off to bed, good night sad self.

Alt + F4

Alt + F4

Everyone knows what this simple combination does, right? If not, it simply closes everything. It's the fastest way to exit whatever window you're in. Now, what if the combination were present in the real world? With just the simple voicing of, "Alt + F4"- bam! You're gone. Cease to exist. No more trace of where you are, where you've been, where you came from. You're just, gone.

That is, if you're in incognito mode. Don't know what that is? It's basically the private mode. Where no one in the basic world could trace your history- you live in your own shadow. The wording sounds terrifying, but being in your own shadow feels great... At times. In the other moments, your own shadow feels like you're choking yourself. Well, enough of those now- we're supposed to be talking about the simple combination.

Bring it to life, it isn't that simple anymore. It probably doesn't have its own equation in Physics class, or a deep analysis by an English professor, but it sure does not become 'simple' in the real world. Put it out there, do you ever wonder how many of those wanting to spend the rest of their days (weeks, months, years, decades, etc.) under the ground? Before you could even blink, tons of cases reported by the news would appear right in front of you. Still sounds simple?

Live in incognito mode and you'd be forgotten in a snap. You know how long it took Pan to stop existing? Almost two hundred years... at least, that's what Percy Jackson said. All those references aside, the incognito world doesn't sound too appealing. In a snap or in a press, you're finished. Bye-bye to you and your own memories that no one else will remember. Listen- you have to stop living incognito. Throw out a party or go to one, travel around the world, eat what you want to eat. All these, just stop living in secret. Being a hypocrite, the browser this is currently being typed on is incognito. Oh well, we can't all be perfect right?

Moving away from those paragraphs previously written, at times the simple combination works out nicely. Say you want to start over, you could press it then ta-da! You could start all over. But it doesn't really work out that way. What about we just input the other simple combination? Ctrl + H. Yes, it's a whole lot of easier to press- probably not. This other combination could help you start all over- just click 'Clear History'. It sounds quite a bad way, but it works. If you want to delete just a few events, head over and put a tick on those unwanted memories, then click 'Delete'. Life's easy that way.






(Enough of all these, it turned out weirder than expected. Certainly wasn't planned to write down this, however, the idea of Alt + F4 was entertaining. In all hopes that this weird writing was great enough, it will be posted. It wasn't meant to be deep either (if it were even). Anywho, enough. It is about time one could go to bed.)

Δt

6:09 AM.

Update.

I am still alive. Barely slept. No sleep at all. Need help. Send help. Going crazy.

6:11 AM.

Update.

Talking. Soothing.

Update.

Why do people have to be arseholes?

6:15 AM.

Update.

Why.

Update.

Headache.

Update.

Life questions in this ungodly hour.

Update.

Writing.

6:20 AM.

Update.

Signing out.

Update.

Sleeping in 10.

Update.

Probably not going to sleep at all.

Update.

You don't deserve me.

Update.

Dramatic life.

Update.

Out for real.

6:21 AM.

Gone.

why do we fall in love with people?

Why do we fall in love with people?
Is it because of the way their faces look nice-
Even when it's one in the morning?
Even when it rained-
And their clothes are soaked
Do we fall in love because we find them
Perfect no matter what?
Or because we choose to look at them
In a manner we think that's perfect
That way so we could ignore
Their little imperfections
But isn't that against the way
Love works?
So why do we fall in love with people?
Don't we like them for their imperfections?
The way their hair still looks perfect to you-
Even though it's a huge mess
The way they look with anything they wear
Even though it's not matching socks
Or the way that they look
Even without their contacts on
We fall in love because of their imperfections
That we turn into perfection
The love that we give them
Can help them realize that
Even when you don't have your makeup
Or when you don't shave
You'll still look perfect
Because that's how I loved you
And that's how you should be

I Tried

I have tried. I swear it to all the deities, I tried. And maybe, I've had enough. I'm tired and I just want you out of my head.

You- you are the reason for my loss of sanity. Do you know what I have to keep up with, every single day? I see you and I just want to talk to you, but I can't. Whenever you're there, I try. I swear, I do. You end up going away before I could even blink. It's hard- hey, since when was life never hard anyway. I just want to talk to you about all the stupid little things I could think of, but I guess you want to do that too- just not with me.

But you- and I will forever emphasize this, you will always be someone I hate. I hate you damn much. I'll put it in a way I always describe it: I hate you so damn much, it hurts.

This is all I could write down (for now). I feel bad for you. If I had a power to curse, I would probably curse you, really. But are we supposed to waste time to someone who probably wouldn't give two damns about you? Maybe I should curse love because I was cursed by it. Was I really, was I really?

At least I made this sound a little less sad. And I guess I could say that this would be the only thing I could succeed in because I tried.

I always thought...

I always thought situations like these would never happen to me. One, I was a way too happy-go-lucky child and two, it just never seemed possible.

I always thought that I can sum up 'life' in just two words: fun and great. Now, I feel like I can add a whole lot of words in tons of different languages, but it still won't fit what I think 'life' is.

I always thought that I could make someone proud by simply just making them think of what they want me to be. Turned out that it was way too hard to achieve what they wanted.

I always thought I'll never be good in something that none of my friends could do. I realized that I could be really good at being scared of heights and being really good at love.

I always thought that I would never be funny, but right now, my friends would even laugh at me before I told them the joke.

I always thought I'll never achieve what people think as 'perfect'. Let's all be honest, nobody is perfect. But then, we could always be perfect in our own world and someone else's world.

I always thought that playing an instrument is hard. I used to only know how to play the flute, but now I can play the guitar and piano (with the help of the internet of course).

I always thought I'll never fall in love with something. That was changed when my life crossed a book called The Little Prince. I may not love it as much as the Prince loves his Rose, but it is enough.

I always thought that the concept of love was to give it and receive it. Never have I thought that I was so wrong.

I always thought that if we give food, people would happily take it. I never had someone deny my offer of cookie sticks.

I always thought that everyone likes their fruits as much as they hate their greens. I guess, I thought wrong again.

I always thought I could beat Joel in science. I never did, but I did end up beating him with a lot of awesomeness.

I always thought, 'love wins'. Sometimes, it's actually just friendship.

I always thought that no one could ever not help a beggar with a little money. I ended up not helping one when I grew up.

I always thought you can take back your love. Seems like I've wasted a huge time on trying to like you then.

I always thought you could forgive someone, even if they didn't physically harm you. Then again, I was wrong.

Finally, I just have this one thought for you: Are you mad at me?

----

Pain

Pain. It's kind of painful when you do something and they don't return it. I mean, you'll get used to not getting it back or anything, but it's still painful. Every new thing equates to a new kind of pain, to a new level of pain. It's just painful. We still end up doing it again because we expect. Expectations. A new kind of pain, a new level of pain.