Chapter 6

Why does everyday have to end in such discust. By the end of the night i cant wait to go to bed.
To escape the depression and the shitty feelings that brew throughout. I guess in everything in
life it requires your absolute devotion to complete a major goal and be happy with the results.
Ive been giving attention to my issues for some time and i guess i havent gave it enough it needs.
Once again i thought, that i was giving everything to writings, my heart and soul, punishing
myself to produce more and better writings. I was wrong. You have to give it EVERYTHING.
nothing comes easy, you have to work to make a difference. It has to completely engulf you,
body and mind.

Ive heard that people that have lived a certain way for thier entire life they dont relize that what
you may be doing is abnormal or unhealthy. I guess now that i think about it, it isnt very strange.
I accept the notion completly but not sure if everyone agrees. The people with different cultures
dont think what they are doing is wrong, and who is to say that they are, its how things were
done and you accept that. But what if someone who has lived in one place thier entire life, live
among people who are living a somewhat shared lifestyle, can one emerge that has no
recolection or idea of how “it should be”? Anything goes and you just except that as life. This
is the way it has always been so how could i know a difference?

It shocks doctors to hear that someone could have depression every single day. I dont
understand that. i think depression, the depression in my life, shapes every single idea, thought
principal, everything. that is a part of my life, so it puzzles me to think that other people have
it different? Do they have it 5 days a week? 2 days a week? I grant it that the severety is not the
same day after day, sometimes it could be pretty mild and sometimes it is more than you think
you can bare. Do you believe the phrase God never throws anything at you that you cant
handle? I wonder. always do.

(1999)In My Eyes

In a sence of resentment, hoping to find a sort… of relief.
A chilling call of selfishness and grief.
I look to see at what i must face.
A spirit of joy and love no trace.

All alone with no hope at all.
I soon begin to see that it all will fall.
With my head down in shame i soon see.
I have lost everything that there ever will be for me.

This longing for hope will grow no stronger.
I look at myself and see i cant last any longer.
I must escape this tormenting pain.
I no longer care for any, i have no gain.

Waiting for the end to come i wait.
Hoping never again to feel this dreadfull hate.
But it all will end as all does to all.
And again, tommarow, I will once again fall.