how weird is that lack of common experience can tear everything apart. how can turn people into strangers.
diversity of opinions bullshit has no place into this one, unfortunately.
when nothing can understand you, you no longer want to turn to it when you have something personal to say. so you just lay by yourself, in solitude, wishing for someone to share the pain with you, but in the same time wishing that no one else in the world would have to go through this.
and in the end, how nice would it be if by making a promise to keep it a secret forever, it wouldn't affect anyone else in the world. how nice it would be to die from this pain, but with the knowledge that no creature will ever feel this again, ever.
benefits both actually. the carrier desperately wants to die, and the others desperately want to live.
both made by the same core. both having the same features.
however, i know that by no means i am the only one to carry this. still, no sight of life that could give me an honest helping hand. i would give back one too. i promise.
but why do these two different kinds still want to interact with each other, and even worse, love each other?
sometimes, the one kind claims to have been helped by the other, but how can one feel help when the moment a word exits your lips it makes everyone else around you worry. how can one feel help when in a desperate moment, covered in blood, feeling like there is nothing left, the only result of sharing their thoughts would result in the sadness of others.
no help has been received.
all the help given, i realise now, was to make them feel better, not me.
people help others to feel better about themselves. and then claim to love each other.
even the kind hearted ones, end up making me even more anxious and pressured.
people say that sharing yourbad thoughts can actually help you being relieved from them, but it is a lie. the truth is that the bad thoughts kick in with more friends, after.
i'm sorry.
diversity of opinions bullshit has no place into this one, unfortunately.
when nothing can understand you, you no longer want to turn to it when you have something personal to say. so you just lay by yourself, in solitude, wishing for someone to share the pain with you, but in the same time wishing that no one else in the world would have to go through this.
and in the end, how nice would it be if by making a promise to keep it a secret forever, it wouldn't affect anyone else in the world. how nice it would be to die from this pain, but with the knowledge that no creature will ever feel this again, ever.
benefits both actually. the carrier desperately wants to die, and the others desperately want to live.
both made by the same core. both having the same features.
however, i know that by no means i am the only one to carry this. still, no sight of life that could give me an honest helping hand. i would give back one too. i promise.
but why do these two different kinds still want to interact with each other, and even worse, love each other?
sometimes, the one kind claims to have been helped by the other, but how can one feel help when the moment a word exits your lips it makes everyone else around you worry. how can one feel help when in a desperate moment, covered in blood, feeling like there is nothing left, the only result of sharing their thoughts would result in the sadness of others.
no help has been received.
all the help given, i realise now, was to make them feel better, not me.
people help others to feel better about themselves. and then claim to love each other.
even the kind hearted ones, end up making me even more anxious and pressured.
people say that sharing yourbad thoughts can actually help you being relieved from them, but it is a lie. the truth is that the bad thoughts kick in with more friends, after.
i'm sorry.
