Some people say death is black, depression is black, suicide is black: that everything we could possibly imagine as negative or irrational is dark, gloomy, like a graveyard you see in those Halloween movies.
I’m not saying that im depressed, although i could have every reason to be, but i do think about things people do, that people have done, how some people feel, and i really cant help but to think hard and say “what can make you be this way.”
Some people can see their future, but can’t figure out to get from point A to B. Some people can’t see a future; blurred by hurt, confusion and pain. Some people can’t even see at all, the light so bright (not dark) that they can’t even tell who is in front of them, holding their hands to lead them in a direction they aren’t familiar with.
When you google suicide or depression on google or yahoo, you see support groups, people that claim they want to help you feel better, realise that there is a life beyond all that pain some of us go through. But do they realise that sometimes, the victims themselves have thought it through a million times, only to find out that there really isn’t anything out there for them? This is the part pro-life, happy people kick in. “What do you mean, nothing in it for them? Of course there is, a family, loved ones, your future, your children.”
And yet we say, “When something suffers so much, let it go”
So why cant we do the same?
Sometimes it isn’t about people, its about wanting to be, wanting to be, looking at the blue sky and wondering why you cant be up there, wondering why without a single reason to look for, you keep suffering everyday. Like you cant breathe. Like you cant walk. Your heart feels frozen. You eyes seem to moisten when you see the clouds pass by. Lost in a trance in your bedroom, on your bed, looking for something you can find, when you cant even find it in yourself
i want to dedicate this to everyone who hurts or has hurt. I want to dedicate this to anyone who sees white, a flashing light, and doesn’t know where to go. People can tell you all they want that they want to help you, that there are beautiful things in life. And i’m not saying there isn’t, maybe the world is so achingly beautiful that i cant even find the words to see inside it.
Some people say death is black, depression is black, suicide is black: that everything we could possibly imagine as negative or irrational is dark, gloomy, like a graveyard you see in those Halloween movies.  I say that its white, where all you can hear is your heart beat, so loud you cant even hear yourself speaking.
 
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