Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Bad Desire

I think too much. And that is something that i can't deny.

I'm sure i'm going through a bout of depression these days and always tend to wallow in self-pity. Yet, when i heard stories of someone else who is struggling through a disease or in a dire situation, i felt as if what i have was just a small piece of cake.

Like a slap in my face. Trying to wake myself up. Telling myself to put my empathy on others.

Why? Why do i need to do that when i don't want to?

I'm tired. I take time. Whenever i'm in my room, i'm feeling various of emotions. I'm angry, i'm bitter, i'm sad, i'm optimistic, i'm disgusted. All these just molded into a ball of massive energy and exploded into a black hole, sucking away everything that i have in me.

Leaving me emotionless, hollow without a single purpose.

Now, can they, who read this, be empathetic with me instead?

Ph: Steven Klein

"I am a hunger ready to eat.
And i can't tell you why.
I had this urge
to die."

The Knife, I Just Had To Die.

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