((-27-))

36 3 2

by ParkSeungHui

by ParkSeungHui

Log #2 (5/3/18) 9:02 pm - 9:30 pm

These days are something. It keeps getting worse and worse. Every day, I feel like I'm drifting away. I don't feel like I belong. It feels like hell to me. Happiness is no longer a word in my dictionary. It feels hollow like I'm just in a cave, and nothing is in it. Just, the echoes, of silent whispering. I tell myself I would get better, though, I'm not.

I tell myself, I can be happy, though I don't feel that. I promised myself to be more open, and I can't. It's hard to talk to someone when you feel like this because you want to push yourself away from those who love you.

So, they can live their lives, in peace. Instead, of worrying if you're okay. Though, I want someone to ask me, "It'll be alright. My arms are open wide." Though, nobody does. I only can defend myself, forcing my inner self to not feel this way.

Though, my mind can't resist the feeling.

My imperfect perfections, slowly kill me. They lower my self-esteem and bury me in a grave. Cold, dark, suffocated and hollow. I'm trapped and I can't get out. I feel like I can never be free, and never will be free. It hurts so much. I can't keep everything hidden because it's hard for me.

I don't feel like myself, nor do I feel 'alright' in this world. I try to keep my 'sadness' hidden though, on a piece of paper, I can't. A box of words, where I can customize them into my own, never. It feels like getting a soul transplant, replacing it with nothing, being eaten by the Devil and thrown into a hellfire.

I'm barely hanging on, at this point, in life. I don't want to live like this because every single day I feel like shit. I don't want to get out of bed, see those who I love, go out. I want to stay home because that's my escape from reality. Staring at the moon in the pitch black night, my saver. Writing everything down on this screen, my frenemy. My room walls, my demons. Everything I want to come true never came. The people who I love will never reach out. The person, who is typing this, me, will never take action because I'm too afraid to stand up to myself. Myself, my monster.

Why does he feel this way?

Or... is it you that's feeling this?

Or... what if it was someone closer?

Keep out for the pictures at the top.

They may lead to something deeper.