A reality no one talks about
- MGA BUMASA 84
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- Mga Parte 13
"It's nights like this when I'm too fucked up
I was trying to escape but it just didn't work
I only end up missing you more.
Laying face down on the bathroom floor
'Cause it's nights like this when I miss your touch
Nights like this when I just feel numb
It's nights like this I'll spend with someone
Disappointed 'cause it's just not us"
-The KidLaroi
All Rights Reserved
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Magugustuhan mo rin ang
Happy Endings
"Don't you see now why we can't be together?" I whispered at the crazy boy in front of me. "Aren't you repulsed by me? Disgusted? Dis interested? Can't you just tear my heart out and leave like any other normal teenage boy?" My voice cracked. He simply shook his head. "Sweetheart, I thought I made it clear from the first time I said it," He paused, "I. Like. You." He emphasized every word, and I gaped at him. "Hell of a lot, actually, so it'd be great if you stopped being salty and liked me back." "Don't you get it?" I whispered unbelievingly, "After all that, and you still don't get why I can't be with you?" He seemed relaxed, calm. Too calm for this situation. "My life doesn't involve a guy like you, Nathan. Never did. You're not my knight in shinning armor, and you aren't going to save me. This is reality, the real world. And the real world doesn't have happy endings." ---- To me, there's are six different types of crying. One; The Breakdown. Two; The Longing. Three; The Hysterical. Four; The Broken. Five; The Happy. Six; The Inevitable." ---- This short story is very depressing, I'm warning you now. It may trigger memories, or depression symptoms.Kumpleto
Wake Me Up
"Hurricanes start with warm ocean water. The warm ocean water being love. Over time it turns into a tropical storm, the storm being the obstacles. Then the eye of the hurricane starts, the eye being realisation it's not getting better. Next weatherman and women, tell you how bad it's going to be ; you predicting how bad you're going to get hurt. The hurricane finally hits land, that being the breaking point where you let the fights break you up. When you've just had it. Then reconstruction, you seeing how it broke you and have no idea how to start again. It takes a long time. It hit you harder than you expected. Everyone is trying to help you pick yourself up but you don't even know where or when to start."Kumpleto
Restarting
There is a war raging within me, a constant battle between what I know and what I feel. My priorities became a blur after you happened, and absence never felt so real.Kumpleto
Four Days in Recovery
When anxiety and depression hits you like a hurricane, you have tunnel vision. You can't see anything, but what's happening in front of you. You can't think straight, and you can't process what's going on or why this is happening. Then all of a sudden you're stuck, and you get sent away to recover from the battle you've been fighting for so long.Kumpleto
Maybe I'm Insane
Maybe I'm insane, but aren't we all a bit. Here's a look inside my crazy mind. My hopes, my fears, my problems all out there for you to see. It's not all pretty and it's not all nice, but it's the truth. I won't blame society for these things, because in reality... we are society. I've come to realize that just maybe, were all meant to be a little insane.Kumpleto
Mr. Cold-hearted
I am dead inside but I just ignore it all, until something happens. I met someone and now I need to fight with my inner demons... and discover myself.Kumpleto
The Wall // A.I
"You're like the wall between me and suicide, but it's breaking down!" {I WAS YOUNG AND STUPID WHEN I WROTE THIS PLEASE DONT JUDGE HOW HORRIBLE IT IS}Kumpleto
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardKumpleto
"Don't you see now why we can't be together?" I whispered at the crazy boy in front of me. "Aren't you repulsed by me? Disgusted? Dis interested? Can't you just tear my heart out and leave like any other normal teenage boy?" My voice cracked. He simply shook his head. "Sweetheart, I thought I made it clear from the first time I said it," He paused, "I. Like. You." He emphasized every word, and I gaped at him. "Hell of a lot, actually, so it'd be great if you stopped being salty and liked me back." "Don't you get it?" I whispered unbelievingly, "After all that, and you still don't get why I can't be with you?" He seemed relaxed, calm. Too calm for this situation. "My life doesn't involve a guy like you, Nathan. Never did. You're not my knight in shinning armor, and you aren't going to save me. This is reality, the real world. And the real world doesn't have happy endings." ---- To me, there's are six different types of crying. One; The Breakdown. Two; The Longing. Three; The Hysterical. Four; The Broken. Five; The Happy. Six; The Inevitable." ---- This short story is very depressing, I'm warning you now. It may trigger memories, or depression symptoms.
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