Sometime in your life, you might have had the urge to confess it all to someone.
To recount your tales of despair with a stammering and stuttering tongue. Knowing well enough that your story might have no attraction in their eyes. For in the present day rah- rah scenario, everyone wants butterflies on their mental screensavers and not some random girl/boy who is hell bent on destroying his/her life. The smoke of your pain will sting their eyes, as soon as you open your mouth you'll feel like closing it, that only groans and sighs and not words shall escape your throat. So much so that even if rendered helpless like a fish caught in a net, you'll panic sure, but likewise not to give voice to your pains ever again.
For what do you like and what not? What can you bear and can't? What and how many purpose(s) do you have? Why don't you break the silence? What is the meaning of these questions?
Nothing.
What are you?
Nothing.
I destroy myself by speaking what is true
People self-parrot, I self-deprecate
People hide their flaws; I spread them out in the sun
People pat their own backs, I lash mine.
YOU ARE READING
Suicide Justified
Non-Fiction---------------------Trigger Warning------------------- Originally titled 'All the Push You Need (and a little more)' this book intends to do what it says. It'll help increase your cynicism, deepen your depression, give strength to your demons, help...
