a tear slips down my face

to feel something is better to feel nothing at all

pain is easier to feel than joy

am i a masochist for loving this deep anguish?

to feel… is better than nothing…

even when it’s manufactured

this deep melancholy is better than the

paralyzing nothingness

of staring at a blank screen

a blank future

an unknown fate that i did not choose!

a consequence of something that i did not foresee

that has ruined all of my plans

and my motivation

and fucks with my heart

what is happening, i ask?

i can’t get up in the morning

i can’t sleep at night

i can’t feel unless i force myself to

i collapse at the slightest action

i distract myself at all costs

from the reality that shouldn’t be as bad as i see it

everything this temporary, i hear myself and everyone else tells me

then why does this nothingness feel like eternity

why do the days meld into weeks, into months of lethargy

of self-created inaction

of self-created hate, anger and rage

and my solution is to crash


crash harder

into loneliness

pull away, from everything and everyone

irrational, my brain tells me

something is fucking with your neurotransmitters

and yet i can’t help but blame myself

it’s all on me

and it’s my life

and it’s my life


and the tears dry up

and nothingness ensues as i smile

what is real anymore?

i’m not quite sure.

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