Do not plant seeds of hatred in your heart.
Soon, it will grow into small sprouts of envy. You will hate every single detail about that person even if there is nothing wrong about them. In your eyes, they are full of flaws. You will always say that there is something wrong about them but the truth is you are nothing but a fault-finder human being. And you hate them because you are jealous of them. You will never appreciate anyone. You will never see their worth because you are blinded by the hate you are feeling towards them.
These small sprouts will grow into a bigger plant of insensibility. Because of anger, you might by pass their feeling. You may never hurt them by means of physical actions, but you may use your words against them. Remember that words are like daggers. When you use them against people, they could be killed emotionally by those words. You could bring them extreme pain and they may bleed a lot inside. But the thing is, your insensibility towards their feeling might turn into apathy. And I believe not caring at all is even worse.
Lastly, when you let it grow into a big tree of anger, you will found yourself underneath it and you will then be consumed by the darkness of its shade. So before it grows into an enormous tree, put a stop to it.
Never listen to my mouth because it speaks nothing but lies. Though I am suffering and secretly dying inside, you will hear nothing but “I am okay.” It hinders people from understanding what I really feel inside. My mouth is the reason why every single person thinks that I am strong- that I do not need any companion for I can do it by myself. But behind every “I’m okay” my mouth says, is my heart, slowly falling apart and turning into dusts.
Never believe my lips because it will show you nothing but smiles. Despite of everything, my lips always try to smile no matter what. Even if I am being engulfed by agony, even if I stay awake all night because of my night-long laments, still, I would smile in front of people I would meet everyday. I do not want others to feel sorry for me. I do not want them to think of me as a weak, sensitive girl who seeks attention by means of getting emotional every now and then. I smile so that people would think that I am okay.
Never believe the words I wrote in my letters because I could easily fake them. I could easily tell you that I am fine and that I am perfectly okay despite of the fact that I am actually seeking for someone’s help because I am about to breakdown. I could easily lie to you. I could put all happy-related terms in my letter and none of them might actually be true.
The world is full of lies and so am I. “I’m sad” could easily be replaced with “I’m fine”. An “I love you” could easily be replaced with an “I’ve moved on.” You see, lies are almost everywhere. But darling, if you really want to know, the real me. If you really want to read me- look straight into my eyes and it will tell you every single thing about me.
And I’m telling you, you don’t point out my sadness as beautiful. It is not poetry. It is not your source of metaphors, not the one you feed with fragility, and scabs, and bones, and flesh, and scars—my sadness has got nothing with you. I wish you would have just left my sadness as it is—raw and bold, nothing to hide. Unpretentious. My sadness doesn’t come in colors, don’t give it meaning. If I were to remind myself of every word I would ever associate with sadness, I’ll find nothing that could match it. Nothing like sadness could combine with sadness. Dare say it’s beautiful, and I will pour you a drum of it—so when you feel the pain you won’t feel the beauty. Trust me. Sadness is not something you can turn into art. Don’t love my sadness. Don’t make it your benefit. I don’t get sad so you would have something to write about.
You were a thief.
The first thing you stole to me was my heart. You made me fall using your words. You know how much I love words specially if they are weaved into perfect sweatshirts that could protect me when it is freezing cold. You told me a lot of promises. I was a fool way back then so I readily believed in you. It was under the pitch-dark sky when you told how much you love me. You told me that the stars are the witness of the love you’re feeling for me, and that I would be the judge to tell you if I am feeling it or not. That moment, you’ve successfully stole my heart.
Another thing that you stole was my time. After a month of making me feel loved, you started being cold. From thirty missed calls down to no call at all. I spent hours and hours waiting for someone whom I thought loves me the way I love him. I was wrong. And then I realized that I was waiting for nothing. Like how I used to wait for Santa during Christmas when I was still a child. When we met, you we’re as joyful as summer. But now, you’re even colder than winter. I don’t know what happened.
Then I realized that you’re already the subject of my poems and writings. You did not just stole my heart. You’ve also preoccupied my mind. All I can think about is you. And how you stopped making me feel loved. You were the reason behind my bittersweet poems. You were the reason behind these cuts on my wrist. You were the reason why I wake up at three o’clock in the morning just to cry my feelings out. You were the reason why I became nyctophilic; why I became in love with darkness. It is because when you left me, you took all the light in my life with you. You left me with nothing but darkness.
So stop denying that you’re not a criminal.
Stop telling me that you’re innocent. Because you’re not. And stop telling me that you did not kill anybody. Because that night, when you told me that you did not love me- not even once and took back all the things you’ve said, you killed the entirety of me. I bleed but you were too blind to see it. You left me lying on the floor, like a broken glass. You hold me and brought me up in the sky. You made me feel like I am on cloud nine. Then all of a sudden, you dropped me and left me with my broken pieces.
— Beau Taplin, "Hell exists."
I guess I have to stop writing about you, even just for the mean time. Maybe as the snow stops falling, I should temporarily cease my feeling for you too. Maybe it’s time for me to realize that you have no chance to read my writings after all and that if you ever did, you wouldn’t even care. Maybe I should stop wasting my pen’s ink writing the words my mouth cannot say. Maybe I should stop wasting my journal’s pages just because I keep on repeating my poems for you because I am afraid you may not like it, though I know that you will not read those, still, there might be a very little chance that you will, despite of the fact that you won’t read my works. Just so you know, these works are all for you. Most of the time, I will write about how wonderful you are or how perfect you seemed to me but sometimes, I write about the pain you brought to my heart and how your apathy stabs me at my back leaving scars.
I guess I have to stop thinking about you, even just for a second. To be honest, you are always in my mind. I do not know what sorcery is this but no matter how hard I try, you will always be stuck on my mind. I guess I really have to divert my attention to other things knowing that you are nowhere to be found. Of course, you chose to be gone and not to be found. I guess I have to think about something else.
I guess I have to stop loving you. Of course, it pains me to be a victim of unrequited love, but do not worry, it is not your fault that you cannot fall in love with me. Just look at me, I am nothing compared to the highlights of the societies. Those perfect creatures. I am nothing compared to them. But if there may be a chance that you might change your mind (and choose me over those goddess), I’ll swear to you that I will love you more than they could ever do. I could not offer anything more. I only have my heart and a pen.
1. Contrary to popular belief, depressed people cannot just snap their fingers and “get over it.” Depression is not a magical spell that can be taken away with a simple abracadabra.
2. Depression is not a blue feeling. It’s a dark, dark navy and it’s not a feeling; it’s more of a mood. A feeling comes and goes like the weather or storm clouds or ex-boyfriends and girlfriends. A mood stays when all else has gone away. And depression is so damn dark blue that even the very bottom of the ocean couldn’t compete with its exact shade. That’s how dark it is.
3. “Oh, depressed people can barely do anything at all! They just mope around and lie in bed all day.” Nope. Someone can be depressed and still function. People with depression are human beings too; they’re just having a harder time than everyone else. They cook dinner, flip pancakes, go to work, see movies, take their kids to daycare, babysit, text their friends, just like a normal person. They’re human.
4. Depression is not caused by the depressed person him or herself. It’s often caused by an imbalance of chemicals in the brain, neurotransmitters called serotonin and dopamine. It’s like a metaphor: when the ocean tides come in and the water touches the shore, the shore feels happy and loved. When the tides recede, the shore feels alone and sad. When the neurotransmitters get depleted, this leads to sadness and low self-worth.
5. “Oh, it’s their own fault! They need to stop being such a mopey person.” Again, it’s the chemicals. The chemicals are at fault, not the person.
6. Not all depressed people are suicidal. There’s a difference between wanting to simply not exist and wanting to kill yourself. It’s different for every single person.
7. Sometimes, even though it seems the wrong thing to do, you need to let someone who is depressed be. You need to leave them alone if that’s what they want. Giving them space is like giving them time to breathe and recharge. But you have to pick up on the little things, the signals and cues, to know if they want someone with them or not. They might not always come right out and say, “I want you to spend time with me.” You have to be discerning and you have to be willing to come closer or back off.
8. Depression is not a bottomless black pit that everything gets sucked into and nothing ever comes back out. It may seem like that sometimes, but out of the darkest things eventually come light. If you turn of all the lights in your bedroom, eventually your eyes will adjust to the dark and you’ll see again.
9. “People with depression are depressed people.” Yes, they may be depressed, but their depression does not define them. You can’t lump them into a category. If you look up the word “depression” in a dictionary, their face is not going to be sitting there as the definition. They’re people, not their disorders.
10. People with depression can’t be fixed in any sense of the word. But they do get better. They’re not hopeless cases or broken objects to toss away into the back of the drawer. They just need a little extra loving.
i. Stab me with your words. Kill me with your messages that brings up tears in my eyes. Write me letters telling me I am not worth it. Tell me that you are done with me and that you no longer want me in your life. Tell me that my part in your life has already ended. Write me a long poem that ends up with the statement like “I regret meeting you.” or “Get lost.” Use your words like a knife and point them into my heart. Then slowly tear my heart apart. Look at me while my blood shed on the floor as I read your letters. By that, I should be killed.
ii. Lock me up in a room of silence. Make me feel like I am all by myself and that I have no one to talk to. Make me feel alone. Bring me to parties just to see you socializing with people while I sit the corner of the room, alone. Lock me up in walls you build by yourself. Throw the key in a place I do not know. Do not reply when I text you. Do not write back when I send you letters. Do not answer when I call. Most specially, be away from me. When time comes that I feel alone although people are surrounding me, you can then be sure that slowly, I shall be killed.
iii. Poison me with lies. Tell me you love me even if you don’t. Tell me that you can’t live without me even if you can’t. Make me believe in all your sugar-coated words then make me realize that none of them was true. Tell me you miss me even it’s not me that you miss, but instead, just the presence of someone. Tell me I am your number one priority even if I am in number 3492082023 in your list. Tell me lies, make me believe. Then after making me believe, frankly tell me that you do not mean any of those. Or your could just let me discover those by myself. I guess, that will hurt even more.
iv. Let me break myself by means of falling into someone who is not willing to catch me. Make me love you. Make me fall for you. Then, do not catch me. Leave me in the midst of a cold place. Look at my shattered pieces then walk away as if you did not see anything. Walk, and never look behind.
v. Let me watch you fall in love with someone else why I stand behind you- offering my heart to you.