I want the deepest, darkest, sickest parts of you that you are afraid to share with anyone because I love you that much. And now I'm showing you mine. I'm but an average, untalented girl living in suburbia attempting self-discovery. I am ordinary. I live an easy life and yet I'm still unhappy; I'm hoping keeping track of my thoughts will make this easier to understand. I care little for other people's emotions. I lie to others to make my own life easier, but not ever to ease their suffering. I will not lie to you. My thoughts are my own, not easy words fed to me by my parents or my government. I am part of no church, and I believe in no god. The only thing I need to be saved from is my own mental unrest. I ate his heart then I swallowed his brain. If you don't love me back, I'll do it again.
I understand depression. It definitely is no teenage phase. It's not all that bad actually, because I remember after a period of depression (before I started smoking weed regularly, now I never seem to get depressed), I would feel so brilliant, creative and inquisitive. Nothing like how I normally am before/during times of depression. It's morbid I guess, but I enjoyed the rush of life it gave me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, there's always a positive, even if you don't see it yet.I definitely agree with that. I write in my spare time, short stories etc, and my writing is never better than when I’m at my low points. Sometimes depression can give you a view of things you wouldn’t have had otherwise, and sometimes drawing from a dark place can create something really profound.
