will be alright.

Honestly, I am proud of myself that I could fight and win the demon which has been living inside of me two years before. I am ashamed of my own words, that I’ve wrote here to someone. Relatives or friends or even worse to my mom, I was literally ungrateful asshole who thought only about her senseless existness.                                         There is something in my heart what  I’m not even being able to pronounce.But I want to be honest to me and confess that I can’t remember a day when I felt real happiness. I know it might sound unrealistic cause there’s should be something, in somewhere deep hidden in memories that will make me smile jelously to go back to that moment, to that second and feel the same happiness.The blame is all mine and everything was and still is so confusing but I can’t remember a day, an hour,  a second me in the euphoria of happiness, this is too much grievous to me to even think about, but by living a grey and too much unknown life..here’s results.Here comes a time when you say to yourself ”at least you should have tried”. So coming over this story I will make myself happy very soon and after doing that I’ll come back here and I’ll share everything…           So, now what I wanted to talk about is that the spleen of 13/15 years old me has been gone away and I don’t know how could I talk about anybody like that, how could I be that young and that much heartless. I want to delete all my angry thoughts that I wrote here and burn whole of diaries but these are times and they are changing and of course reading my old stupidness makes me smarter and stronger now.

Now while everything is hundred times more awful in my life when my family moved to somewhere that makes me breath very uneasy at every moment, when i’m unimaginably out of my comfort and I feel airless, where I feel depressed and downtrodden, not needed and……I want to stop talking like this. Like the dumbness of mine is consist of that I’m so aware that by labeling myself as “somehow” makes me like that more.So I should stop call me “depressed”,”sad”, “uncreative” or whatever else, right now.                             And here’s the thing I can’t put the blame of  my uncomfortability to anybody else.             I know I’m so immature now, that I think this situation won’t change and I’ll stay unhappy forever..But I know, I fucking know every damn thing that disturbs me now will disappear so soon and every damn feeling to. Will be alright….

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repression.

don’t even know where from to begin.I feel shame for repeating the same words again and again, the same thoughts and feelings. I feel shame to my own personality. I feel guilty that the person that I am use to be is not happy now, and I don’t know wheter she will ever be, even sentimentaly, I am so sorry that i made for me too many “glorious” dreams and desires.The saddest thing is I am so aware that every materialistic thing doesn’t exist for me and every wish of mine has a background and whatever happens all of my dreams, they have only one meaning and only one thing’s hidden under all of them.I lie to myself saying “oh. at least this..” but everything even not I want but I need,  I really need as breathing is going far away from here. I mean i don’t care where, I might sound creepily immature or stupid or whatever, but for a second imagining myself away from here, from where I’ve been locked for too much time, imagining that I whould be away from all of this things that has putted me under this repression and made me feel this much done and downtrodden, all of the people who makes me feel unworthy, untalented and useless, it makes me have the heavy breath of hope.I don’t know whatever could happen but I also don’t care at all, I rather die (which I’m slowly doing) than too stay here, get nausea of my own existness as i am doing several years…I rather die

and this is not the saddest story the saddest thing is that I know I am gonna cry all my life for everything.

right here and right now.

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and now the rain has become the hope
it is the only which has the look of the peace
maybe it will replace of our outlet
or even of our tears
to follow the rain seems impossible itself
but if to try, it doesn’t sting while it’s beating
it only strokes rudely
and that stroking is beautiful, isn’t it?
they are just drops, now
but they’re looking like the sparkles of “the hopes” for some
and as the rain is very beautiful and it doesn’t hurt while its beating
just stand and feel it
and the hurt.you won’t feel it
funny thing? it is that the hope and peace and pain doesn’t exist now

 

inspired by the rain itself