My Obsession

I am obsessed in being whole for I am nothing more than shards of broken pieces, trying to fit together, trying to make sense, trying to put back what was broken.

But I guess, I can’t be whole again. Not when I’m thinking like this. Not with this heavy feeling in my chest that bothers me. Not when I’m letting my sadness define me.

Yes, I am sad, perhaps even clinically depressed. I find socializing a little bit tiring and draining. I am stressed with academics and there isn’t someone that I can talk to. I try to act that everything’s fine but I’m really not. I was so close to breaking down the other day. This is why I need to learn to love myself and for that I am obsessed in feeling whole, in loving myself, and finding happiness.

In response to:Obsessed

Eternal Sadness

There was nothing more profound than the sadness that she felt. It was as vast as the sky, as deep as the sea and as dark as the universe.

How can she walk around pretending she’s fine, trying not to let anyone see that all she want to do was breakdown. She tries.

She tries because they expected her to be strong. They expected her to be more than what she really is. They expected and she complied.

But at the end of the day, there was no one by her side to tell her that it’s okay to feel a sad, that it’s okay to cry. Because all she has is her self.

In response to: Profound