Perfectly Candid
TW: Life All this pain around me, it saddens me. Why is nobody happy? Why is it always little transitory moments of peace and not a wide smile plastered on every face, always? I write for validation. But today, I pick this pen and write because I see no other means out of this internal hell I am in. I am not happy either by does that even need to be said? Bound by shackles that tear through the very fabric of life, I see no peace, only an eternal struggle against everything we consider familiar. I am crying as I write this. I don’t cry often, and these days, even when I do, it is a forced coercion of tears, an outward force, instead of something that occurs spontaneously as it once used to. I’ve never been good at crying. I write this because I won’t be able to express any of these feelings to anyone who would care enough and knows how to deal with whatever I’m going through, anytime soon. I don’t journal but today, this feels more journal-y than anything I’ve ever written ...