I'd Rather Be DeadYou're always asking me if I had anything worth dying for.More Like This
I'll pose the opposite to you and ask you this:
"Why is it that you find life to be worth living?"
Is it so interesting to go through each day feeling anxious?
To the point that you feel nauseated enough to collapse.
Is it so joyous to spend each night staring at a blank ceiling,
Hearing the clock tick on toward morning,
And yet you lie awake.
Tired, but awake, emotionless, but awake...
Do you truly get up each day, facing it with optimism.
Or do you look at the news and the state of the world,
And genuinely fear for your safety?
Now, if it were me that you had asked my dear,
I'd tell you quite honestly: That I'd rather be dead.
At least I would not have to hear the white lie inside my head.
That tomorrow will bring me a 'better' day...
But of course, you are welcome to believe that.
DysthymiaDysthymiaMore Like This
Ever present in the shadows of your mind, quietly waiting
Never quite knowing when it will take hold again
Learning the 'triggers' of such a chain of events, is crucial
The tormented individual believes it's just a case of 'the blues'
Days turn into weeks and you know something isn't right
The disorder is typically seen as laughable, ignored by many
Viewed as 'low grade', it gets little attention from the forum
The tears and the agony tell us a different story
The loss of interest and lethargy linger daily, grinding onward
Dragging yourself from one day to the next, is a feeling of condemnation
The anguish is as physical as it is a mental state
It hurts to laugh and smile, it hurts to cry out or sing
Go pick some daisies.I took in all of the things that were typically deemed irrelevant to me, like the flowers, the grass, and the blue, pristine sky. And I thought about what they meant. What were they supposed to signify? Bees pollenated flowers. Birds made nests. Winter was cruel and trees shedded their leaves as if they were nothing. As for the sky, I thought it was just an open book for us to read and interpret our own way. You can blame it all on basic science, but my thoughts gave all those familiar things new meaning that day as he was sitting by my side, curling his fingers in the grass. Is everything here for a reason?More Like This
"John, do you ever think that there's more to life.. than just living it?" I asked, tilting my head slightly and staring at his profile. "Hmm?" I had interrupted him and taken him out of some trance. "Go pick some daisies, Macca." He chuckled. "You know you want to." Smirking, he threw some grass at me playfully. "Are you gonna answer my question?"