I give up telling people how it feels like. It’s a struggle to nowhere. They will never understand. A blunt assurance that fails to bring light. A road of desolation and helplessness. A scene that will never be seen in the eyes of others, just only inside my head. Replaying all hopelessness – there’s no such thing as “help” – I’ve lost trust in everything; along and against me.

In my swirl of depression and desire to embrace “hope”, it feels hauntingly forlorn.

I’m alone weeping tears of no value, day and night.

If you’d like to bring me down further, it’s okay. I hate me too.

Are you happy now?

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