Light of Depression

Crawling Through My Mind

There is no risk I'm taking here. You can crawl through my mind, via this writing. You can explore every cavity of my head, every connection in my brain, just by asking permission. However, I do remain the one who writes this. I do remain the choreographer of this dance. I stay in charge. I might not stay in control, but I stay in charge nonetheless. Some doors are not to be opened. However, they are unlocked. They are open to everyone. They are hidden in my mind, and you will never find them. And as long as they are hidden, and you are not aware of their presence, then you will not seek the secrets behind them. You are allowed to go exploring. You are allowed to dig into my mind to try and find the doors. But, you will not find them. For you, they are non-existent.

This is where I lose control. There is a reason why they are unlocked. It is because I cannot lock them. They open themselves, and everything which lurks behind them crawls out, when my mind is too tired to hold it back. My mind is developing. My mind is evolving. It is growing, filling itself with information, knowledge and experience. It is continuously expanding itself, even when I do not wish it too. The playing ground gets bigger and bigger, and the game becomes more intense.

Like I mentioned before, you are allowed to open any door. You are allowed to ask me what you want to know, and what you want to be enlightened about. My past, my future, my present. My condition, my health, mentally and physically, my relations and my struggles. My feelings. My sympathies, my memories, my imagination, my inspiration, my motivation. All of it is open to you. You have but to ask me, and I shall answer, via writing.

This is a point where you might ask; why via writing? Why does he repeat that? Why does he not want to talk; to use speech or other forms of communication? Why writing? That is a door which I will now open for you immediately. One of which the answer will be revealed in the sentences to follow. The truth is; my words are not just words. My writing is not just writing. It is filled with more than you can imagine. I am able to fill my writing, and my face, and my speech, with confidence. Writing most of all. I am most confident when I write. The expressions I use exert confidence of me into your mind.

I have a sphere of confidence. Inside my head, everything is thrown together, harassed, broken, torn apart, choking on life itself and awkward in its own existence. What is so unconfident in my mind, transforms to confidence to the outside world. It gives you a confident impression of me. In my head, I am insecure. I am broken-hearted. I am confused. I am awkward. I am choking. I am torn apart by experiences witnessed first-hand.

You can open the doors, but I will truly ask you if you know absolutely sure that you want to, multiple times. I do not want you to be scared. I do not want you to run away. That is what has happened before, and what I will fear for the rest of my life to happen again.