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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:37:26 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 37518
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Daily Depression
[time] => 2004-03-05 21:36:15
[hometext] => This is how my day went... *laughs*
[bodytext] => It starts with boredom, and grows from there. I stab myself with a pen. Sixteen times on the hand. I feel better. Then I grow even sadder. When the people taunt me, I’m still okay, I don’t let it get me down. It’s pretty stupid really. Then feelings come from no where. They devour me, memories come surging back, throwing me into depression. I go to lunch and stand in line. I hate the people there. I want to hurt them. They stare at me and touch me. I want to shove them, push them way, for they are too close. I don’t even want to joke with my friends, though I do not want to hurt them. I just want to be left alone. I do not eat my lunch. I give it away. I put my head on the table, thinking dark thoughts. My friends cheer me up, in their own way. I joke for a while, maybe I’m even happy. But it doesn’t last. I start thinking more things. I plan my suicide. My friend gives me helpful tips. I feel a little better... only to sink again. I walk to her locker, and sink to the floor in a heap. I want to get out; I want to leave this building, be free of all restrictions. She understands, and tells me I can leave if I want. But I know I can’t really. As much as I’d like to. We set off and go to class. I am immobile, I’m to sad to move. All I can do is sit with my head in my hands. We go to the back of the room, for a study hall. My friends and I sit together. But inside I’m far away. I think of all the ways to die, I think of cutting a cross on my back, and ripping out my spine. My friend understands. I rest my head on the desk, eyes close. I can’t bear it anymore. I need to escape as much as I can. I ask for her pencil and stab at my fingers. The stinging feels good. But it doesn’t help enough. My inner pain is still there. I cry inside. I feel there is nothing I can do. So I sit there, thinking my thoughts, dying inside, hoping someday this will end. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 169 [topic] => 13 [informant] => WorthlesSanity666 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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