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Mentions of depression.
The world i see is a dull shade of grey that covers the walls of a sad and lonely hospital hallway leading to the morgue. My world is, in fact, just like those walls. Holding days and nights of painful cries and worried thoughts. Hope for the best but no hope at all too. Feeling the slaps and pounds of the empty, lost and saddened. My world, just like those walls, has a not so happy ending. The colors of these walls switch to a dark ugly grey when the sun sets and returns to a light ugly grey when it rises and I’ve forgotten the other colors that used to exist, that adorn the walls of playrooms, ice cream cafes, art museums and my world. I sit in my dark room most of the times, under my blanket shivering from the cold my body is generating, to fill the void that is now a gaping hole in my chest and I’m relieved to not see anymore grey. I stare at the light from my ringing phone, waiting for the person calling to give up already, stop interrupting my dark and cause the return of the grey but they don’t. My dark is granted back to me and I stare at my neglected phone, hoping to hear another ring, but dreading it all the same.
‘dont give up on me, yet’ ‘why won’t you give up already?’
my dark is turning to grey again as my old bathroom door creaks open and a ray of golden sharp light hits my sight and I am thrown back into my nasty grey world, coming to terms with how stupid, useless and awful I am.