for too long my depression had me convinced that I am completely worthless. I am always tired; no matter how much sleep I get, I want more. I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t even want to leave my own bed. I want to pull the covers up to my chin and sink into my pillow.
I know I am guilty of allowing myself to be controlled by the circumstances of this imperfect life. I only blame myself for all the things I cannot change, or the people I couldn’t make stay.
but today…
I am making attempts at giving myself permission to let go.
life is too short and too imperfect to walk around so low.
dannytyler
I choose to wear my heart on my sleeve. virtually, everyone has labels hanging over them. I would like to remove them, but the truth is, we are all larger than the labels people give us to confine and define us. my soul speaks through images, words, and art; every shutter captures another piece of the soul, converting fragments of my life into memories. I draw lines to cross and wear clothes to take off. I live with friction in my bed and fantasies in my head. I am living an eternal fairytale where everything is coated in love, love and more love. I am flashy, I am deep, and my heart is the centerfold. passion is essential in my life. too many people are simply living but very few are alive. forget about the plastics and the superficial. I want classy, I want trashy. give me anything that breathes with conviction: thinkers, lovers and leaders; people who turn love into paintings, people who turn tears into sonnets, people afraid of life but never afraid to live.
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I’m sorry you’ve been hurt