I wish I’m delusional

Maybe what’s worse than the pain is feeling that there’s no one there for you. That all doors are closed … all eyes are void of care … all ears aren’t listening … all hands are unavailable … all kindness consumed … all hearts closed. I hate this feeling more than I have hated anything in my life. I wish I could know why it seems to follow me everywhere; no matter where I go … no matter what I do. I wish it’s just something in my head. I wish I’m delusional. I wish that somehow the doors are imaginary, the eyes are pretending, the ears are hidden, the hands are invisible, the kindness can be found, and the hearts just misunderstood.

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A group of poems/letters

This is a group of poems/letters which I’ve written over the past months.

A lucid dream

(I started writing this one on 03-07-2017 and finished it on 10-07-2017. I remember writing it as a letter to my love some time during the same month.)

You know how, when in a lucid dream,
the boundaries of reality become so fragile
I wanna take you out of this world
Away from all of its demons and all of its gods

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Sleep deprivation

We are told that if you get a sufficient amount of sleep, you won’t feel sleep-deprived. They tend to focus on the quantity of sleep and seem to overlook the quality.

There have been days in which I got very little sleep, yet felt so energized and refreshed. And others, where I had much more sleep than needed, yet was too tired to complete the simplest of tasks.

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Mirror of depression

(I wrote this on the 28th of Jan 2017 as an attempt to describe my state of mind around the end of a phase of depression, where the dark thoughts are still felt, but not as effective.)

Warning: objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

Bad memories appear closer than they really are, good times seem rarer. True friends seem fewer, haters multiplied. Darkness seems endless, light like a split second. Pain feels stronger, happiness abstract. Hurtful voices sound louder, praise and support insincere. Misery abundantly immanent, laughs lost in oblivion. Everyone disappoints, kindness is invisible. Nights are colder, our hearts made of stone.

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