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OneThingToAnother
The Unsundered
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2021
- Location
- Elpis
Dear me, in years past and days to come.
Why am I ever writing it here, in the public eye for everyone to see? People who know nothing about me but could very well be the stranger I pass on the street... Maybe it's my form of art, my way of expressing what I have been feeling for god knows how long. Maybe I write to connect me to myself, who knows it might help someone else do the same.
It could also be that, in my time exploring BMR, I finally find myself at a place more comfortable. Not that I have taboo or unusual kinks. It's just comforting knowing that other people enjoy roleplaying as much as I do. And that there's a match out there for everyone.
Dear me, I write not to talk about this platform, of which I'm selfishly claiming my own little pixel. I write to express the pain that has made it's home in my heart, a pain I can't even remember where it came from. A pain so deeply rooted inside of me, I don't know who I am without it anymore. And the pain is unending. It's like a dark pit that has no bottom, no end to the tunnel. Even a speck of light turns out to be a hallucination of the mind.
If it isn't stress over family or work matters. It's the depression that kicks in. A dark voice that whispers in my ear to tell me dirty little lies. That I will believe. Why wouldn't I believe them? If they came from my own mind, my own depression, how could they actually be lies?
If not that, it's the mental disorders, the illnesses that stamp a big red "USELESS" on my forehead. Or so it feels like they do, I'm not sure what others see when they look at me. It's funny that, when someone has a broken leg, we rush to their aid with crutches and all the help they need. Yet when I reach out my hand, already drowning in my own suffering... I get told to just start swimming.
It's not the swimming that is the issue, at least I think. I'm just tired of it. I'm tired of suffering and the pain that follows me around. I'm tired of people not understanding who I am and what I do. I'm tired of being where I am now.
Though someone once told me, someone who ironically did not follow their own words... They told me, "Hey, one more time, okay?". Or what translated to "please don't give up.". It's painfully ironic, that they didn't go for one more time.
But in their honor, I keep going. And so should you, me from past and future.
One more time
One more try, one more day. It's never too late to try again and to pick up what broke and make something new with it. And let people talk, let them hate. Listen not to the voice of depression but the tunes of the world.
One more time
For your sibling. For your pets. For the days that you will look back and smile.
Because fuck have we been through a lot, you know? We survived so much and have hurdled ourselves over so many obstacles. How sad would we be, if we wouldn't see what the finish looks like, once it's built?
One more time.
Please
And you too, reader who made it this far. One more time, okay? Make or fail doesn't matter. The fact you tried again, matters.
I'm proud of you
I'm proud of me.
I'm proud.
Thank you for reading.
Why am I ever writing it here, in the public eye for everyone to see? People who know nothing about me but could very well be the stranger I pass on the street... Maybe it's my form of art, my way of expressing what I have been feeling for god knows how long. Maybe I write to connect me to myself, who knows it might help someone else do the same.
It could also be that, in my time exploring BMR, I finally find myself at a place more comfortable. Not that I have taboo or unusual kinks. It's just comforting knowing that other people enjoy roleplaying as much as I do. And that there's a match out there for everyone.
Dear me, I write not to talk about this platform, of which I'm selfishly claiming my own little pixel. I write to express the pain that has made it's home in my heart, a pain I can't even remember where it came from. A pain so deeply rooted inside of me, I don't know who I am without it anymore. And the pain is unending. It's like a dark pit that has no bottom, no end to the tunnel. Even a speck of light turns out to be a hallucination of the mind.
If it isn't stress over family or work matters. It's the depression that kicks in. A dark voice that whispers in my ear to tell me dirty little lies. That I will believe. Why wouldn't I believe them? If they came from my own mind, my own depression, how could they actually be lies?
If not that, it's the mental disorders, the illnesses that stamp a big red "USELESS" on my forehead. Or so it feels like they do, I'm not sure what others see when they look at me. It's funny that, when someone has a broken leg, we rush to their aid with crutches and all the help they need. Yet when I reach out my hand, already drowning in my own suffering... I get told to just start swimming.
It's not the swimming that is the issue, at least I think. I'm just tired of it. I'm tired of suffering and the pain that follows me around. I'm tired of people not understanding who I am and what I do. I'm tired of being where I am now.
Though someone once told me, someone who ironically did not follow their own words... They told me, "Hey, one more time, okay?". Or what translated to "please don't give up.". It's painfully ironic, that they didn't go for one more time.
But in their honor, I keep going. And so should you, me from past and future.
One more time
One more try, one more day. It's never too late to try again and to pick up what broke and make something new with it. And let people talk, let them hate. Listen not to the voice of depression but the tunes of the world.
One more time
For your sibling. For your pets. For the days that you will look back and smile.
Because fuck have we been through a lot, you know? We survived so much and have hurdled ourselves over so many obstacles. How sad would we be, if we wouldn't see what the finish looks like, once it's built?
One more time.
Please
And you too, reader who made it this far. One more time, okay? Make or fail doesn't matter. The fact you tried again, matters.
I'm proud of you
I'm proud of me.
I'm proud.
Thank you for reading.