I never put videos on here but oh well.. seeing as i’m too sad to write anything lately. Here’s the latest cover of mine.
I’ve been so tired lately that all i want to do is cry. I can’t even get out of bed because it seems my legs and arms have turned themselves into stone. The bags under my eyes are constantly trying to press my eyeballs out of their sacks. My depression has pressed me into lower than lower lands. I feel like some seeds that were buried under ground and had died before ever having grown. My walls and bed had all power over me now and had tied me to the bed, not letting me go until i’d scream and cry all liquids out of my mind. I’ve turned into more than weak.
I can’t move, cry or sleep so i wait until i get thrown back into my world of black, these shades of white don’t mix so well in this mind.
What’s the first thing you think of in the morning? When conscious and alone, my first thought is usually to lay paralyzed. Maybe it would throw me back into that world we call ‘sleep.’ Then i wouldn’t have to get out of bed and face the ‘outside’ world. It takes so much energy to constantly wear a mask and to worry if people you know can see through it, into your eyes, and at the thoughts your mind has locked into a birdcage. But the key is still in the lock and it seems i will never be able to reach it.
Now that I am older, i cannot let my head control me, not in a visible way, anyway. I won’t let myself stay in bed for two weeks without saying more than three words to the occasional visitor. It’s interesting how people think you are ‘better’ just because you don’t respond to your head the same way that you did when you were a teenager. But nothing has changed except for the fact that i have accepted my depression. Every day is still a struggle and every morning it’s still a fight to get out of bed and to face the world. My head is still this army that’s constantly shooting at me, don’t get fooled by my smile or bright colors, i only wear them in hope to reflect some light back into myself. But i know they wont stop shooting until I’m dead.
Early in the morning, like all others, i have to put my mind in the cage and try to ignore the bomb in the middle of it, at least until i am alone again. Now i have to get up and live through this day the way all other human beings do.
You know how most people go to therapy until they’ve apparently been cured from what they were suffering from?
Well I did that for about a decade and now here i am trying to give myself some therapy. That outlet that most of us search for. I know some people may probably think of drugs then, or sharp objects, going for a run, writing a song, dancing around your apartment while screaming along to a beyonce song or crying into a pillow. Unfortunately most of those things didn’t work for me when i was a teenager and the other options i usually don’t have the energy for. So that’s when I sit here and let my fingertips do all the work. For just a few minutes a week I will let my brain throw bright, honest words into my veins and let them push my fingers down to whatever letters they may choose. Maybe it’ll help me stack away the invaders of my brain into lots of little boxes. Lets hope dust will quickly come and bury them all away.
Hello, to this enormous cave that I’m about to throw my words into.
I’ll fill you with thoughts that have always been on my mind and some that have just crossed it. They may be painted in black, yellow, blue or white. It depends on the day, the time, the second that I’m living through.
I’m sorry if i scare, bore or frustrate you.