one of my bad days

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 30, 2018

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Submitted: July 30, 2018

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I wish I could scream and rip this feeling away from me. This vessel is so full of emptiness inside that nothing else can reside. Yesterday there were rainbows and today there is no glow and I can’t seem to see the light it’s like it’s trying to hide and all though try as I might every thing in view is black as night. Help me escape the prison of this depression. Is it even that? Some part of me rejects the angst says it’s not strength it’s weakness and I agree, me. What is it then? My mind is like a bull without a pen free to roam but no place to call home no place to lay his head or place to call his bed but in its stead is a wide prairie that doesn’t mean anything to me, just roaming fields of consciousness and emptiness in this wide expanse of my mind. But this bull does in fact have a pen so I’ll write down words that sound right like some rite to ignite that emptiness and burn it to ashes. Flashes of inspiration like these come when it bubbles over. Is it a treasure trove or, is it all the babbling of one radically damaged by a shifting pendulum of chemicals in his brain unrestrained? In need of a medical expert with a magic speculum to open my mind to the truth that I am never going to get better.


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