This person needs help.
( A writter doesn't always try their best when improvising. It's best to plan things, but it was a current thought. I ponder.. Does anyone else ever feel this way? Or am I just alone in this? )
The clouds are growing thicker overhead. It's going to storm.. I don't mind. It's only
how I've been feeling lately anyways.. It's amazing how even on the gloomiest day, there is still joy
and happiness in the morning birds chirp.. I don't know how to climb out of this whole I am in.
I sit up late at night, trying to write how I feel down on paper, but nonsense seems to be the only thing that appears. I wasn't prepared for this. I told myself no, but then only denied my problem. I don't know what to do. I am lost and withering away.. Eventually I will have completely vanished, and the only trace of me will be this shell they call a body. No one can save me... if I can't even save myself. I can't even hear my own cries... Just fuck it... I'll die.
The clouds are growing thicker overhead. It's going to storm.. I don't mind. It's only
how I've been feeling lately anyways.. It's amazing how even on the gloomiest day, there is still joy
and happiness in the morning birds chirp.. I don't know how to climb out of this whole I am in.
I sit up late at night, trying to write how I feel down on paper, but nonsense seems to be the only thing that appears. I wasn't prepared for this. I told myself no, but then only denied my problem. I don't know what to do. I am lost and withering away.. Eventually I will have completely vanished, and the only trace of me will be this shell they call a body. No one can save me... if I can't even save myself. I can't even hear my own cries... Just fuck it... I'll die.