Its not okay to be feeling like you wanna blow your brains out everyday…no one to talk to…or worse having people to talk to and no one listens…Feeling alone…angry, depressed, everyday…stuck in a cycle…doing good..then bad…then good again…being a burden…making your Mom cry…causing her stress…endless prayers…needing help…fake smile for the day…people passing away…drugs and alcohol abuse…everyone sees the outside and talks shit but can’t look at the inside…thats the part thats killing you…the part you try to share..crying for help but no ones there even though they’re sitting right next to you…then they say they didn’t know you felt they way…even though you tried to show them and tell them over and over and over, to the point where you don’t know what to do anymore, you give up trying to talk to them or they switch the subject to something else because they don’t want to talk about the real shit…they don’t got time…your frustration turns inward turns to depression and you attack yourself emotionally…and that makes it worse…then you wonder if your the problem since everyone else looks and sounds normal…black sheep just leave is what you tell yourself…your making everyone uncomfortable, so you go back to being alone again…Abusing again…just music playing, just you and the music….gotta keep playing music so you don’t hear yourself think…even when you sleep you need to hear some sounds other than your thoughts…whats scarier the nightmares or your mind before you fall asleep..whats the difference…whats the point.to weird to live to rare to die so your in limbo, prison of purgatory. Life can be scary cause we know whats there, Death is scary because we don’t know whats there, so what can you do…its still up to you.theres no universal meaning to Life, we ask ourselves whats the meaning of life but whats the meaning of death? Born alone die alone…quit my job as I wrote this, in a dark room on pills with a bottle of vodka next to me…the room represents my mind…dark with just the light from my computer screen, metaphor for the small light in my head… dim light in a dark world…the world I put my self in…my own prison…cell door has been open forever…I didn’t walk out though…telling the mirror you need help.but help comes from self…not from books on a shelf…not from someone in a chair taking notes…not from inspirational quotes..or the words that preachers spoke. How woke are you? With your eyes wide shut? You know how much of what? Am I helping you for you or for me? Can charity be a therapy? Is happiness achievable? Or is it a endless journey? Like trying to have enough money? Theres never enough money so how can happiness have a ceiling? Is it like money in a sense that you can hold it for a bit but can’t keep it? You can pass it to the next person and your time to have it comes in goes? or does its value comes from the person who holds…more drugs more alcohol but never feel whole…bottomless hole..more bottles no soul..can I borrow some of your joy please? If I do something Good can I get a share? Does anyone have happiness to share? Are we already there and can’t see? What happens when happiness means something different to you then it does to me…the feeling of going on a killing spree to a murderer, and the feeling of a mother giving birth, happiness could feel the same for both, just in a different form, so again what is happiness? Depends on your morals I guess…but it can be measured in success..excess success mean were doing good and we are happy? I don’t even understand why I wrote this…felt like I was possessed..by the alcohol wine and spirits…my mom will cry today…my mom will pray today and ask why I am this way…dead eyes in the mirror they’re mine..no one at my side so I guess were all in a line, I could keep writing forever but forever still takes time..plus my vodkas nearing it line…these notes weren’t even supposed to rhyme…they were just notes, they should’ve been more. Im sorry.