Depression, A Storytelling.

13 Years young, 16 years in the making. Dysthymia, depression, mindset, oblong-shaped brain, cursive strokes. He, was a trigger to anything, making him trigger-happy. Not because of his fault, but because of what happened. Death, and tragedy ensues. Dragged into the oblivion, and causalities ensues, casualties fallen. Failure after failure, death upon death, experience done, bad ones, many, good ones, a little to none. A ripple effect, and a tragedy all out. Ill intend, and death, again. Death, more, and a separation, and another. Shaped me into this person, this kind of person. Bring me to an endless pit of hellishly selfish world, by a storm after storm. Repetitive, and boring. Cause and effect. Consequences, and all things that mattered in between. Degenerative brain disease, crash after crash, near death experience. Suicidal thoughts, repressed memories, becoming social anxieties, and all hell broke loose. For the time being, paused, never stopped. Suffering, pleasure, and temporary happiness that leads to another death of being in mental state. Not in a whim, but always on the move, stagnant, not forward, nor backward. Keep something in mind, too much, anything, everything, becomes nothing. Hard boiled, emotional, sensitive, but stuck in the moment. Hell, if he can do it, I can’t. So what? what happens next? I surely don’t know, maybe Sherly does. Depression, schizoid, and seeing things that are not there, is a thing to me. shining light that colored red, an ant, a sound of blaring alarm, cockroach. What is happening to me, i don’t know. But this is the sound of my emotion, and my mind, and my soul. Away, my soul. Meet me in the avenue of the lost, and have something to begin with. Benign, but malign and ill intend. Makes me resilient, persistent, and persevere. Now, I am. All things makes me wiser, older, brighter. None of it I’m not thankful for. This is just a note to myself, 5, 10, 20 years later, let this be a reminder that my mind was and still is a chaos, a structured chaos, and let it be in my mind, that that is okay, and being a chaos is okay, you will become a chaos, and death, but in between, you are you, presistent, resilient, like a blacksmith make his masterpiece two handed blade that will rip into the dimension of being.