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I am depressed and I don't know why.

I just wanted to tell someone that.

But in the end, by typing it up here I am shouting it to the abyss. With the knowledge that no one will read it. No one will wonder why. I am shouting it into the abyss with the complete knowledge that anything that comes back will only be an echo.

I just can't do it any more. I just can't.

I don't want to be me any more. 

And I say all of this shit, secure in the knowledge that I will never hurt myself. Ever. I will never wreck the illusion of being happy. I want people to see me and think well, she is happy.

But I am not. 

I am just another helpless soul, with no meaning, no desires above the insignificant, and with nothing to diffrentiate from the person haunched in their shell of a body next door. Or next door to that.


I am just another. 

And I wanted my whole life to be someone, something, somewhat. I wanted people to care in some way shape or form.

But they don't.

Not because they don't love me. They do. I am just nothing special to anyone. I am not bright enough, no pretty enough, not kind enough, not funny enough, not happy enough, not sad enough, not bitchy enough, not caring enough, not sardonic enough.

I am not enough.

I am just yet another shell. Another picture in black and white.

I wanted my life to be technicolour.

At the moment I would be satisfied with any colour.

I just....

Even these words aren't enough. They don't explain the truth of the matter.

When i was about 13 I had this epiphany.

I realised everyone is alone in their own heads.

everyone is.

No one can truly sympathise. Or empathise with another person.

There are 6 billion people out there, all thinking separate things, living separate lives.

I could never differentiate myself. 

Because everyone is alike in one way or another. not one is truly unique.

But if I was unique to one person. 

I don't think I would feel like this.


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