Default Title - Write Your Own

Prologue

If yall want to read this whole depressing note then go on.

You have one life yet what was the reason you wanna live?

Its all pointless. Life is pointless. So why cant you just die? Cant you go back in time to let yourself drown, suffocate, bleed to death, hit by a car, jump of a building? Damn. Depression really took a tole huh?

What if your parents want you to become a doctor or a nurse? Will that help you cope with everything? 5+ years of depression can surely cope you through out the years huh.. What if you want to become a baker? Do you want to mix all the ingredients of your life and turn it into a monstrosity? Bake it Until it burns and eat it afterwards? Only to spit it out because its not good? Would you want to throw it away?

..
Throw it?
Will you actually throw it away?

What if you want to become a cook? A chef? Drowning the meet of happiness into the pit of burning depression.. Only to be plated heavenly and served with one fine plate.

Break.
Will you shatter the plate?

To let the true beauty and darkness, sadness flowing out of the utensils and glass. Used to be stabbed and washed away the pain of bruises. What about the fancy plating? Will you put some sad red liquid? Only to be disgusted by your work and throw it away.

What if you want to be a dance teacher? Dancing like a angel except how many times you failed and failed. Body aching. Muscles screaming. Mind and heart running. Yet you didnt stop. Water was the only supply for your survival. Dancing is like being chased by lions and panthers. No water? You die. Drowning in red liquid. Bruised from all your failures. Yet you look at them proudly, you have come far but will you ever forget the pain?

What if you want to be an artist? Drawing like your life depends on it. Starting your first ever career and failing. Voices calling you out for your ugly nature of drawing but. Why didnt you stop? Drawing is like a bundle of imaginations. Imaginations so out of the ordinary, yet once the pencil touch the paper it will crush and wrinkle. Hands pained. Upcoming headaches. Nothing new. People praise and hate your drawing. Yet what do they have that you dont?

What if you want to be a fashion designer?..
..
High expectations rise from their grave and haunt your own living. Voices echoing. Why isnt feminine? Why does it look like that? Thats too revealing. So out of trends. Complains. Yarn is staring at you. Barely used while you stare back with tears threatening to fall.

What if you want become a teacher? Echo's in the room teaching such disrespectful yet honest students. Writing what you learned and got in a somewhat rollercoaster of emotions. Too scared of the pressure. To scared of one and many holds. Yet they blame you and this building about it.

Emotions.

Emotions is like a core. Without them you cant feel anything. What if emotions are like a waterfall? A waterfall of pain, suffering. Tears screaming. Throat sobbing. What if your heart and mind was an island? Memories as animals and nature being your heart and mind. What if there's people coming to your island and chop down the trees? Killing the animals. Populating the grass and the water. Burning the life out of your island. Sobs echoing. Screams hovering the island. Memories fading. But who are these people?

Insecurities and negativity.

Your so young yet your so tough to face the consequences of life. What will happen if you become an adult? Will you share your depressing stories?