It’s absolutely funny how people like to pretend sadness isn’t real. They live their dull and miserable life, always covering up their own dark desires residing on their minds. Minds which are empty since they’ve been stunted. And these small dark desires turn into enormous monsters, that everyday chew our thoughts and digest them, transforming them into that hidden part of us we don’t want nobody to know about. And we pretend we don’t know about that part either. And we keep pretending to live our happy lives, as happy people in our happy homes. However, the monster inside us is fed from this shame we have, and it keeps growing, until we can’t hold it anymore… and it explodes. The day it explodes, oh well… We can’t hold ourselves anymore. We go crazy.
I don’t hold myself. I’m surrounded by my dark desires. We live in a deep connection, in which I am part of them, and they are part of me. I’m not hiding anything, but there is something I’m sure of: It’s better to have small explosions everyday than enormous volcanoes from time to time. You have more control of yourself being sad. If you learn how to deal with sadness, you are happier than those who pretend not to have it.
nothing makes sense anymore and everything’s so fucked, just want it all to end already