Lost Paradise

Don’t ever fall in love with someone, anyone, a friend, a best friend, your cat, your mom, your dad, your brother, your sister, that person you met in the club, a person you played with online, no one.

Because once you do you’re tricked into paradise.

A paradise so beautiful.

Until it’s gone.

Until they found another paradise, until they start hurting you on the inside, until they start to disappear.

Your only means of survival is gone.

Question is, would you rather die knowing you felt love that comes along with so much loss, or die peacefully with nothing?

Flames

This was on my diary days ago, I thought I might want to share (also a repost from my insta):

My psychiatrist told me to pray, pray that the evil thoughts go away. What did I expect right? My parents took me to a Christian Psychiatrist, just when I thought I’d be able to escape religious stuff.
They forgot to tell me about it until I saw the rooms were all decorated with quotes from the Holy Bible. I’m not mad and being disrespectful, I hope I am not.
Religion was just a huge trigger for me especially when I talk about it to older people.

I told her I do, I do pray because praying helps even at the very least for me.
But to tell me that after hearing it 1M times is almost physically painful.
The session did not even take too long...
Only around 30 mins.
What made it feel worse is
I told her the darkest things, she also looked like she didn’t give a shit lol.
And Mid-way as I was explaining every detail of all my mental problems, she was already reaching for the drugs.
Unpacking them as she told me to take these for my depression.
And for some reason, when she gave me the anti-depressants and other shit, I was not excited at all,
I wasn’t “Wow yes happy pills.” In fact I was scared, my very first appointment and she already plops out a handful of drugs, and told me to pray, pray it goes away.
Keep praying.
Pray the sickness goes away.
Should I have expected this?
I don’t know what to feel at this point except to be lost and be uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.
Maybe I should do pray more,you know?
I pray that I won’t cry after this session again.
Pray that I won’t have to come back to see her give me more drugs again.
I pray, lord I pray that I find out
If I really do want to walk through fire, or burn myself to ashes.

Glitter Tears

I was once told I looked pretty when I cry.

I was around 13 or 14 during that time.

She was my tutor.

I had a rough day and as we were studying we

started chatting, then I started ranting and then and then finally I started crying.

She was surprised, because who cries in a middle of a review lesson lol.

I remember I was crying about my family problems and school problems.

About my expression and my being. and how no one seems to accept it but my friends.

My nose started getting puffy, my cheeks flushed with a rosey glow, my eyes watery and sparkly like a pool reflecting the rays of the sun.

She jokingly says whenever I cry my skin begins to glow and I become prettier.

It’s funny, and cute.

To think someone looks pretty, cute, and glowing in a moment of vulnerability and gloom, there lies beauty.

Even in the gloomiest, you can still see something pleasing about it.

Maybe if I cry in front of him, will he find me pretty?