婊子

u already push the button, then bye. 

wish i could do the same thing to you but unfortunately i cant.

Aside from not having enough energy to talk to people, one of the reasons why—mostly—I don't open up to others once I am on my lowest is that, once offered any comfort, I tend to set aside the belief that everything will be alright. Because, yes, I want to hold unto it, but my eyes can't catch sight of it at that point in time. On that state of my mind, I can't actually search for the way out from the darkness I am in; I am too blinded by the chaos that is happening. I will stay there—on the depths—and will just cry on my own, until I finally release everything that is inside my head and chest. Rest there for a while, and once I muster enough courage, slowly, I will crawl my way back to the light, and begin to search for the starting point again. 
          
          I realized that people whom I love are always ready to listen and lend a helping hand; and it is me who refuse to talk about it, not because I don't want to, but for the reason that all the words of assurance that I will be fine will just be taken for granted on that moment. It's not that I don't need those words; but what I actually have to do during that time is to embrace the pain, feel it, and accept that it was there.
          
          —Ren Ednalig | 263rd
          
          

I wish it will rain tonight;
          not the heavy-kind of downpour,
          I'm not even asking for a storm to come—
          just enough drizzles outside,
          just enough raindrops streaming down my window
          so I would know I am not alone tonight;
          
          someone would not just hear me crying,
          for someone would be grieving with me—
          it's the sky above us:
          her tears would be gushing down the walls,
          as mine would be surging down through my cheeks;
          hers would be falling on the ground,
          mine would be plunging unto my pillows
          finding comfort on my sheets,
          and they would eventually make themselves
          feel the solace the blanket has offered to me
          
          I would be singing them to slumber,
          and the silence would to the same to me
          
          and we would sleep soundly,
          
          I wish it would also stop raining outside by then
          
          —Ren Ednalig | 203rd