There’s nothing beautiful, nothing intriguing about a wrecked mind, when the same chain of thoughts, in a never-ending loop, keeps on playing and playing. When there’s hopelessness, but you can’t push yourself enough to battle it. When your internal demons catch hold of you, and you’re so tired of fighting them, that you just give in. It’s been months, and now your brain doesn’t know what it’s like to be at peace, to not have a single negative thought play inside it. It’s been months, and you don’t really remember what happiness is, sadness is your home, and people mistake your absense as a way of seeking unnecessary attention. Struggles are beautiful in their own way, they say. But what if you didn’t choose that path? What if you were pushed into it by forces beyond your control? And what if you just can’t get through? When the fear of failure haunts you every single second, when your future seems to be in utter darkness? And there’s absolutely nothing you do about it. For you have no faith in yourself, and every time you look at the mirror, you see a demon. You’re on a dead end road, called self destruction. So you start with harmless cuts, and then they go deeper. Blood drips, but you don’t feel much pain. It feels good actually, to have your mind stay calm for that slightest instance. You’re so sick of yourself, you’re so sick of writing about your tragedy. You’re so sick of ranting and crying out for help. Sure, there is help. But your demon doesn’t let you accept it. Life is a fucking battle, when you have two souls living inside you, one good and one, the darkest of all. You’re desperate, to make it stop, so you find ways, to escape from the reality. You don’t get out of your bed for most of the days, you binge watch movies and series. You read one book after another, most of them inspirational, but what will inspiration do, when you aren’t even ready to take a step? You’re an experiment gone wrong, you’re a failure in life, dull and not strong enough to survive. You’re so fucking sick of yourself, you wonder how people around you take it. No, this is not for sympathy purposes, nor is this a way of reaching out for help, it’s just a rant, a mere piece of writing.