Gloomy Sunday

Gloomy Sunday

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Apr 25, 2020
A Boy lives his adulthood with anxiety and depression and can't find anyone who understands him or respect his decisions and support his goals.Here is the boy sitting on his bed during Thunderous Sunday night writing in his diary what he feels from pain and frustration.
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She's a lost soul, searching for Froot Loops in a world of Cheerios. Emotions. Inflicted by words, Creating signals to connect those emotions. A pang in your heart, the dull ache of love, a tedious, meaningless thing to some. The entire thing to others. Confusing, at the least. All consuming, at the most. We bundle it inside, Hide it in boxes, In the deepest crevices of our persona, Then suddenly, it burst free, tumbling into the atmosphere, filling every hour, every moment. Words convey it. Words share it. Through words, our emotions are liberated. Disclaimer: I wrote this throughout the course of a year. It had its ups and it's down in emotion. It ends on a happy note, I think. It has some overdramatic things in which my past self annoys me sometimes. But it also has some good pieces of thought. The world sucks. I can't promise that it's not going to suck, Because it probably always will. But there will be times Where the good in the world Makes it suck a little less.

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