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.
Yours,
Tennessee Arthur.
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.
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