"Other people are not medicine."
"I keep wondering, how many people do you need to be, before you can become yourself."
Ever wonder what it’s like to live like someone battling Depression every miserable day of their life? This is it, the vicious and never ending cycle. There’s not a single spark of happiness or joy. This is it, this is all we have.
The existence of souls
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Some nights in bed when I think of him, I whisper his name and reach out my hand hoping that in some other dimension he says my name back and he reaches for my hand.
I see him when I close my eyes. Both versions—dead and alive. He smile proved the existence of souls. He simply left his body. And I know his is somewhere in the universe and one day, I will find him.