Camouflaged..

Good mornin y’all,

Well today i kinda feel depressed and don’t really know what to write but there’s one thing that i wanna share… for quite a while now people have been asking me that why have i changed sm and have become the kind of a person that i am now. Well there are alota reasons to it but if i wanna sum it all up then Imma share a thought with you guys that I wrote a while back and hopefully you’ll understand;

She was dying inside,
She always tried to hide,
When others were finding it difficult to stay up late,
She was the one suffering to sleep,
She felt isolated,
She wanted air,
She was helpless,
Wanted help,
She wanted a friend,
She needed someone to listen,
She was desperate to share everything to someone but she was afraid that sharing everything would open the old chapter that were forced to close.
She was tired to hear one same reply that “I’m always there for you” though they never fucking understood anything or  “just wait time will heal everything” but sadly thats a total lie. Time never heals anything it just covers your open wound like a cloth but once the damage is done, its done.
Well no one tried to actually see the chasm of sorrow behind her smile,
The tears in her eyes,
The blood pouring out of her heart,
The unspoken story on her lips,
All they ever did was sympathize.
Every other morning she cursed god for keeping her alive. She was a girl filled with life, filled with colors, the girl that everyone loved, she always used to cheer people up in their sadness but unfortunately or I’d rather say purposefully that girl is no more alive.

Everyday she used to write a diary trying to help herself but walking down the memory lane that was deep burried in her heart was like someone was dragging her in a forest, where she could see some beautiful black roses but as soon as she picked em up she got to know that it was just a rose bush filled with thorns that made her heart bleed. She could feel some people around trying to cut the trees and get into the forest but after sometime they were tired and gone too and she was left all alone in the dark screaming at the top of her lungs without anyone to listen and come rescue her, she was stuck, regretting for going after that one rose which was just apparently beautiful and gave her nothing but pain. Writing her was like scratching her open wound, letting it bleed and bleed again and again but she was satisfied that she finally can share her pain though unfortunately she was wrong….
People took her a lil too unseriously, she had a pure heart but everyone fucked it up completely now its merely a pumping organ. Everyone started to consider her a 5- minute cigarette break. Every evening she used to sit down, all the memories flashing in her mind like a slideshow on vcr, slowly moving a blade against her wrist thinking to kill herself and end everythibg forever. People made her feel disgusted in her own fuckin skin and whenever she tried sharing her pain to anyone there was always a single answer “stop dramatizing everything and exaggerating little issues” so thats what she did she started to kill herself silently from the inside and finally when there was someone merely to listen and go and then gossip bout her, it was too late.

Her soul was already taken away, killed maybe. And without a soul how can someone be alive?  In words of the world she is still alive but in reality its just her body, theres no soul inside. No heart, no emotions, no feelings, shes not here anymore or you can say that she has camouflaged and no one can find the real her. Its all black and white now….

NOTE: This ain’t a piece of writing that  deserves  appreciation but i never really share some thoughts and this is one of them because i dont want to get labelled as depressed but i just wanted you to know that you’re not alone and it’s okay to be sad or feel trash sometimes, JUST NEVER GIVE UP!

Breaking free now!

Hello everyone,

Being a bit formal cus this is gonna be my first blog so obviously I need to set an impression infront of EVERYONE else because like they say first impression is the last. But in my opinion it’s NOT true. Trust me it’s not. I spent half of my life living  with this myth that always be good to people when you meet them for the first time but never got to know why? Why should our lives depend on someone else’s opinion? Why should we always care about what people say? Why can’t we be our own analyst? Our own mentor? But oh well still didn’t  get any answer.

I think imma leave all the deep shit for my next blog and just give y’all the basics about what im tryina convey cus pal that’s how it works here. Well the name of my blog means; kawaakari (i.e. glow of a river in the darkness) and mudita (i.e. happiness in the joy of others). This name tells alot about the kinda person I  am and the kind of person that I want to be which imma tell you guys in the next blog. Now I  know alot of people create blogs and probably you’d be thinking that why should u read my blog and truthfully I have no answer regarding this. All imma say is that my whole life I’ve kept alot of shit inside my brain, got nothing but regrets, tried to express and talk it out but there was no one to listen and that was the time when i realised that words can be amazing best friends so that is what i did. I started writing, generally in my word pad or Microsoft office word cus I wanted to keep it to myself. Although this way I felt a little better but it never actually helped cus writing  about my life and reading it again was like putting up a cover over my open wound but never actually treating it but now it’s time to break free. I dont care if y’all dont wanna read what I write and to be honest I’m not even that good with words but I’ll do it for myself cus I wont have this regret that I never tried sharing it after all that I was feeling on the inside.

Hoping for a good experience here,

Ciao Adios.