Depression.

Too tired to write anything more, so here's a small glimpse into my depression. Like, absolutely tiny glimpse. I'll upload more soon

I'm sick.

My body doesn't ache but my soul does.

My mind leaps to conclusions like the Olympics is missing something complex, something destructive...depression. 

Because the world isn't hard enough without something messing with your head making you hate every inch of your life and you don't know why.

you feel like a fly on the wall watching your own body because you can't do anything to help yourself without getting squashed. 

Or that's what it feels like. 

A bottomless pit never ending regret and shame and the hate you feel for the human race as you begin to feel excluded from it's fun games and included in it's sick ones.

Depression. 

A blood sport played by hunters and the victims are us. 

But the hunters do not have names or addresses or mobile numbers or brains. 

The hunters? We do not know. 

Maybe a god, or the devil or perhaps just chance that the hunter spawned in the back pocket of a lost soul.

Whoever the hunter may be, they make contact with expert aim

point blank with the overwhelming sadness and shame and before we get the chance to run for our lives they get us.

Game over.

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

it's good you can articulate your feelings when you are depressed. conveys despair and a sense of alienation. great job.

[generic twat]

Thank you! c: