Some people become
depressed awfully young. No special reason, but they almost seem to be born
that way. They bruise easier; they tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer
and harm more. For a split second they are the most damaged people in the world.
Some people
are just sad, they want to let out their feelings, but no one’s listening. To
them, no one seems to care. They aren’t important. They’re just “them”. But
that’s not enough.
Some people
tend to try and recall their happy moments because, now nothing seems inviting.
They sometimes watch the night sky wondering why they turned out this way, and
why they are labeled “weird”. It hurts to have to wake up for them, because
they don’t want another day of sorrow to come.
Some people
are just tired. Tired of the same old routine. They want to go to sleep, and as
scary as it sounds, don’t want to wake up. What’s the point of putting yourself
through the same old troubles just to emerge miserable? Hurt again and again..As
always.
Some people
smile the brightest and laugh the loudest. They can brighten up anyone’s day,
except their own. Their long sleeves mask the truth. The horrible scars of the
battle they’ve been through. They don’t have time for their own disparities,
because they don’t matter.
Some people
feel ugly, fat and disgusting. Never to realize that they’re beautiful the way
they are. Yet, they starve themselves to become perfect. Perfection doesn’t
exist. It’s only a mirage. Wont they ever understand?
Smile. Does
it really matter what they think? What matters is that you love yourself just
the way you are. Don’t change, because you are you. And “you” are pretty damn
amazing.
