depressed

2010... 2011... 2012... 2013... 2014...

Five years had drifted by the accumulation of tears,

the feeling of adding on candles wasn't good.

There are edges around the black and every now and then a flash of color streaks out of the gray.

But I can never exactly grasp any of the slivers of memories that emerge.

There was uncountable pain in those hits and strikes,

there was so much hurt and so much fear in it.

I knew, tears rolling down the both of our faces.

We are the conspirators whom both wanted to smother out that pain and hurts that we caused,

to not have so many terrible things in the all too recent past,

to just be ordinary to live life at least peacefully,

to do that types of things we were supposed to be dealing with besides than death and disability.

Nonetheless, when we are depressed,

we are literally being reminded of others suffering only serves to enhance our self-hatred.

Trauma really scares me though, 

because I have had to wear the fearless mask every day like I do.

What happens when I run out of it?

Yeap! Sherryn had blurt out the right thing,

she said I'm still afraid of her,

and I acknowledged I'm still afraid of her in a certain way,

perhaps in an average level of fearfulness?

Indeed,

I loathe her from a significant perspectives,

I am doubting whether I will forget what she looked like in future?

I must start storing her pictures now.

What it looked like when the sun reflected on her hair? Does it look blacks or silver?

The way she talked always sounds like her?

Will my memory of her run out too?

I think this is something that technically I wouldn't need to worry,

here I go! The nerve's blog here to keep her everything from the oldest to the latest.

I know, no matter how, I still gotta stop hating her,

holding a tall glass of warm milk wouldn't be able to solve the solution and

pondering would not drives me to the end of sadness too.

I wanted to yell as I sitting on bed here, my toes hanging over the horizontal edge of bed.

I wanted to let a gut-wrenching howl rip from my disfigured throat toward those clouded skies; the wall of my heart is vibrating hardly now, I really need to pour out my heart loudly.

I need lotta beach time, travel time and spa time to get rid my extreme inner suffering.

Schizophrenic mood hunted me all nights, thus I never had chance to stop afraid before I fallen asleep,

being schizoid alone at home is the most scary thing in the world,

as craziness is far more scary than a pure mental illness.

When schizoid happens,

I feel nothing went wrong but my own deep hurts inside.

I guess I shall take the plane to the quietest country anyway.

#richisgood, I need more breathtaking views to fade off my inner fears.

Well, 

the hurt wasn't really bad though,

I just wanna maintained the life which I having now; in the midst of pain but luxurious.

My simple remark is I wish I could manage to ride out the storm.

I have this mindset because my godmother inspired me about this,

she proclaims her wisdom

'Since you can't forget the past and hurts, you just dont forget about it. Since now wasn't that bad as past right? Like that should be enough since life is always imperfect....'