sunnuntai 1. heinäkuuta 2012

This morning is...

Intoxicated with madness
I'm in love with my sadness

There's nothing cool or romantic or decadent about being sick.

Yes there is.


But it's so much more cooler and romantic and decadent being alive, feeling alive, loving those moments of happiness. There's no reason whatsoever to miss those times when you were at the bottom. That was not something to feel proud of. That was not something you'd want for someone else. Why would you want that for yourself? WHY ON EARTH?! Why would you be such a bad person, why would you be less worthy than anyone else? Think about it. Why?

Because I'm not human. Because I'm actually evil inside. Because I'm so much more uglier inside and out.

Are those things really really true? You torment yourself, you repeat this stuff in your head. That you're nothing, you're disgusting, you're a failure. But how do you know for real, that what you're saying to yourself is true? You know it is the disease, the black hole in your heart, the worm that eats your feelings and makes you want to lose your mind. You know it deep down. But all you see is the rotten world, the grey wasteland, the horrendous image in the mirror. I am sorry. Nothing I say will make it better.

If I say that you have to believe, it makes no difference. I'll say it anyway.

There will be a day when you realize that something has changed. Your reflection will start to look like a human again. The pain will slowly fade away, dust in the dimension of time. Things will feel meaningful again. This I promise. Believe.

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