Enveloped.

Ray Sanders,

Who would you talk to when you're feeling terrible?
Who would hold your hand when you're sad?
Who would comfort you while you want to shout out at the world for being unfair?
And who would hug you and let you cry in their arms, making you feel just right?

The past week hadn't been the best for me you know. Work load, the thought of school reopening after the summer break, my fear of being bad at every attempt I make to be better and my own wishful thoughts about myself. I haven't felt that lonely and disappointed and weak. Even though I know things aren't always beautiful and that you face a bad time every few days, I can't help it. And the thought that everything is wrong is just unnerving.
While I sit here writing this, a lot is going on inside my mind. What could I have possibly done to not be the person I am now? Are there any scopes for improvement? Am I a terrible person? And what if no one liked the new me, if I changed myself?
Thinking of all this is the most indolent thing I can do now. Knowing the amount of homework that's pending I should better be going off now and completing at least one thing. But I choose to stay, to let my mind wander about things I can not be, to think about all the good things I have done or should do and letting the thought persist, maybe counting the wrong deeds I did that all the people I live around are disappointed with the way I am. I find none of the them. I speak what I think, maybe that's the problem.
Nobody is a born wreak, are they? I must have been a mischievous child but I wasn't born the adult I am now. Maybe if people could love me the way people should be loved, maybe if they cared enough to point out my mistakes and correct them and not shout out for making them, maybe if they learned with me, maybe if they listened to me. That's how I know listening is so important.

Chances are, you are finding this entry boring Ray and maybe this is, I don't know. Anyway, I do not know whom to go to while I am sad. I am counting people I know, my good friends, my siblings, my past best friends and present best friends but I do not find any person I can share my thoughts with. That's the number of people I have in my life I can cry my heart out with, zero. Number of people I can speak all my pains with, people who would understand, and maybe fight with me, for me or just stand there to make me feel I have someone who cares about me. And no such person exists.

But with all this, I am fairly certain of one thing. I do not need anybody. What can they even do? I have to clean the slate of all the injuries, misdeeds, a thousand offences that I did and a million lies that I told, myself. I am standing at the edge of destruction and it is in my hands to turn back. I am slipping in the abyss of disaster and only I can help myself come out of it. I have to save myself from the sudden flood of cataclysm I am drowning in. And I have to let all of this go. Letting go is a hard, hard thing. But I have to let it all go.

I  realize I am my own problem and I am my only solution.

Yours,
Tennessee Arthur.

Semicolon Mark

I have been quite depressed for the last few days. There are some reasons for it which I ain't going to blabber about. But one thing is for sure, I am not happy about it.
I can feel myself wondering how my best friend, Parker, manages it. Or how some people can be really like me and not feel what I am feeling. 
I can almost sit here and think about how great other people were, how great my classmates are and how I could be like them, better than them, if I tried. Then I ask myself, have I not tried? 
People code beautifully, my best friend does so too. I must have been entirely wrong the last time I tried. I would have committed some terrible mistake. Ah, if only I tried harder. But then, I am scared to try again. Scared to fail again. Scared to disappoint people around me. Scared that if I lost, it'd disappoint my best friend the most if not me. Maybe she just doesn't care about my coding skills. Maybe she is just saying it because that's what best friends are supposed to do. Or maybe I am just paranoid about it and that if I tried again it might work, it might.

Here we are, Parker, Mary, our hard core robo friend, and I, thinking how to enable our Raspberry Pi to accept some particular sounds and perform a specific task with it like the dimming of light. Parker and Mary code and check the hardware requirements respectively. I sit here and stare at the screens like I am a kid, not because I don't know anything about includes, bubbble sorts, scanfs and stuff like that, but because I am really paranoid of making a mistake and spoiling everything they've done so far. I am pretty good with the hardware part though, but I can't help the freaking, can I?

I reach home everyday at 1930 approximately, then I watch 'The Big Bang Theory'  which comes at 2000 till 2100 and the time moves. After 2100 I have other tasks to complete, you know, society work and stuff like that; photoshopping, writing content, collecting data, making surveys and things. I then think about reading astronomy books and novels and everything I love. But then the thought that I could learn a lot of C in the meantime, or the JAVA tutorials or the Arduino project I have to submit in a few days pervades my mind and I just can't read.
At this stage, seems like I am the jack of all and master of none. I mean I can speak and talk with sass ( as Dizzy says) but then what's the use of that? Everybody does that, don't they? Oh wait, I am just doing what I said I won't right? Blabbering about my problems? But like in the novel, 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower', "Other people have had it worse".

I remember myself thinking a few days ago, reminiscing the reason I wanted to have a semicolon printed on my palms. It is not that I have suicidal tendencies or anything, I am not a coward you see. And even if I wasn't suicidal, I could never do it for I won't die unless I have achieved my ambitions and completed the reason I was born to accomplish. And I don't really need a symbol or a tattoo to remind me I am strong and brave and that everything will be okay, but just because I want to support all those people who seek inspiration from it, people who are struggling with illnesses, to do my bit in giving them hope and love and people who are making themselves strong enough to let go and be strong. Maybe they don't need my hope because I am just another human from billions of them living, maybe that's no reason to get a sign imprinted (it is a semicolon marked with a pen, anyway) and maybe I am just following a new internet fad (that's the exact same thing Rosaline said to me this morning after seeing the semicolon) but that's how it is with me, that's how I am and that's my way to see things, perceive things and support if not help others.

I am Blaire and I am strong enough to let go;