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creativity-when-depressed-part-two


highanxiety

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Mike slung his pack over his shoulder and ran out the door.  He barely remembered to yell out “Bye mom”! In his hurry to catch the bus that was just rolling to a stop in front of his home.  Mike crashed up the steps and flung himself into an empty green vinyl seat.  With a lurch and a cloud of diesel smoke, the bus pulled away.

Tommy leaned over the back of mikes seat, “Didja get the assignment done?  I couldn’t find the answer to the last question”.  Mike looked at his friend, “Nah, I have a study hall before history and will finish it off then”.  Tommy scratched his ear, “but what of the last question?  Who the heck was Franz Ferdinand and why should I care”!

Mike rolled his eyes “read a history book, man…he was the dude who got killed that started the First World War.  Archduke of Austria and all that.”

Tommy shrugged, “Means little to me, I’m more interested in the new girl at school”.   Tommy nodded in an attempt to appear Suave, “She’s really fine”.

Mike rolled the thought about in his head.  He was twelve years old, practically grown up and was starting to notice that girls were rather interesting.  He’d always liked girls and had never really felt the typical “icky” phase.  It was more of an awkwardness.  The girls always seemed to be a step ahead.  He thought of the glimpse they had got on Friday of the new girl.  She had arrived at the end of school to be shown her new homeroom.

Mrs. Fletcher had introduced her.  “Class, I have the privilege of introducing Emily.  Her family just moved into the area and she will be joining us on Monday”.

She then added “Don’t forget to bring your textbooks home and finish the assignment of pages twenty eight through thirty”   Groans filled the air at the announcement of the spoiled weekend.

Mike was fascinated.  Emily stood there and Mike could swear she just ‘glowed’ she was slim and had reddish blonde hair that fell across her shoulders in a thick mass of natural curls.  Her eyes made Mike feel his heart had stopped.  Bright green and just huge seeming.  Emily looked over the class and Mike could swear she stopped while looking at him.  His heart raced as he saw her lips curl up in a slight smile….at ….him?

The bell rang, destroying the moment and Mike kicked himself mentally for rushing out the door of the class rather than try to introduce himself.  He knew it was that he had no clue what to say to her and running away was the best option at the moment.

 

Monday began on a high note.  Emily had already become a popular person in class, Mike wondered again how girls could do that so easily.  He saw her chatting with her new group of friends as if they had known each other forever.  Emily saw him looking at her and gave him a small smile.

A smile just for him!  Mike felt he had won the lottery but the day was only starting.  Mrs. Fletcher announced that they were now entering a new chapter in Biology and therefore the class would be paired up as lab partners.  Mike didn’t think too much of it and hoped that he’d get Tommy or at least someone who wouldn’t just sit there while he did all the work.

Mike almost passed out when Mrs. Fletcher went down her list and announced that Mike’s new lab partner was Emily.  Mike glanced at Tommy,   Tommy mouthed the words “you lucky dog”!

Mike picked up his books and moved to the assigned table where Emily was already seated like a queen at her throne.  “Hey”. Mike managed to say without screwing it up.  “Hello, I hope you know this stuff better than I do”. Emily flashed him a grin.

Weeks passed by, Mike became more and more attracted to Emily as they spent time together.  She wasn’t the best student but had a good touch with illustrations.  They became the team to beat for biology.  Emily was surprisingly easy to talk to.  Mike found himself telling her of his dreams for the future.  He wanted to be a historian and travel the world to see all the places he’d read about.  He listened to her talk of how she wanted to become a veterinarian but how she’d love to see the world as well.

In a fit of passion Mike blurted out, “I’d love to take you with me and show you around”.  He instantly turned red faced at the idea he had said that.  But she only smiled at him “That would be wonderful, it would be a good time”.  Mike felt his heart just melt away.  He was sure that he had found the woman of his dreams.  He just knew he’d never find anyone he loved more.

Mike was in a panic, he wanted to tell Emily how he felt but was terrified.  What if she rejected him?  Tommy was no help, “just tell her you like her, everyone can tell already”.  Tommy wasn’t terribly subtle in anything he did.  Tommy considered himself an expert as he was the first in the class to “go” with a girl.  Gwendolyn and Tommy had been a couple for all of a weekend.  Whatever had happened, Gwendolyn loathed Tommy now.   It was rather funny except that Mike knew that he had no other source of advice.

  Homecoming was fast approaching, Mike knew he must say something soon as he couldn’t stand the rush of feelings that flooded him at every waking moment.  His day revolved around Emily.  He daydreamed during their lab times and he missed the tiny hints of irritation she began to show.  He found himself entranced by the curve of her cheek, how soft her skin looked and even how she smelled, a tiny hint of flowers in the hand lotion she used. 

He had to do something, Tommy constantly nagged him to just man up and talk to her.  “Go right up to her and tell her you want to take her to homecoming”.  Tommy squinted at Mike, “are you too much a chicken to ask a girl out”?  “I’m no chicken, I just want to do it right”. Mike replied in a rather unconvincing way.

“Either you do it now or I’ll tell her in front of the whole class”.  Tommy could be kind of pushy…

Mike knew he was doomed.  Tommy would do it and he knew it would be a major mistake if Tommy embarrassed him like that.

Reluctantly Mike got up.  “I’ll show you”.

“Prepare to be proven wrong”.

 

Lunch time was a social event at the school.  After eating the students could hang out in the gym when the weather was bad as it was today.  A cold snow was falling outside.

Emily was sitting in the bleachers with her group of friends.  Mike was a bit put off to note that Tasha had become one of Emily’s closest buddies.  Tasha didn’t like Mike.  He wasn’t sure why but she had always shown a streak of cruelty toward him.  The other four girls Mike only knew by sight and had never really had much contact with.

“Hey Em, can I talk to you”?  Mike managed to say as all conversation died in front of him.

Emily looked startled and slightly annoyed.  “Hey, what’s up?  We don’t have any assignments due soon and I’m kina busy.  We can talk in class later”.  She turned to Tasha and started asking about her dress she was going to wear to homecoming.

“Uh its kind important and private”. Mike felt each word like it was coated in barbed wire and roughly yanked out of him.

“I doubt that, dweeb” Tasha curled her lip in a sneer.  “Say whatever you need to say so you can go away faster”.

Mike felt his face burn.  “I kinda wanted a word in private”.  Emily looked at him stone faced.

“What do you want”? She asked bluntly.  This wasn’t going the way Mike had imagined it.

He felt his lungs go tight and his head swam as he felt panic beginning to spiral out of control.  “I uh…I wanted to ask….”

Mike clenched and unclenched his hands.  He felt like every pore had suddenly exploded in sweat.

Emily tilted her head and stared at him with those eyes.  Mike felt the panic slip his control and blurted out the rest. “I wanted to ask if you would go to homecoming with me”.  Mike gasped for air in the sudden silence.

Emily seemed shocked and hesitated to speak.  Mike felt his world start to slide apart like a slow motion car wreck.

The silence was shattered by Tasha’s laughter, followed instantly by the laughter of the other girls.  This was the best joke Tasha could have hoped for it seemed.  Emily turned pink and her green eyes flashed a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

“Why would you ask this?  I don’t appreciate being put on the spot like this” She was getting angrier and angrier with each passing word.  The other girls continued to roll about in gales of laughter.  Other students began to catch on to what was happening and either pointed and whispered or laughed out loud..

“What makes you think you can ask me out?  You are not my type, you are a lab partner that’s all”.

She brushed the hair out of her flashing eyes and angrily let fly with a nuke.  “I’m already going with Tony.  He’s going to be irritated that some dork tried to ask his girlfriend out”.

Mike had missed that vital information and looked for a way to escape before his emotions betrayed him again.

“Sorry, I didn’t know.  I shouldn’t have bothered you.  I’m sorry”.   Mike backed down the stairs.  He felt his eyes fill with tears of humiliation and loss and wanted to escape so badly.  Tasha flung a few barbs at his retreating form “No girl wants a loser like you.  Go home and cry”.   They gym erupted in laughter.  Mike blindly ran out the double doors.

Cold air lashed at him before he was aware that he had left the school grounds.  His chest felt like a ball of acid had destroyed his internal organs.  He was blinded by the hot tears that flowed without stopping.  Snow flew hard and stung his skin but he didn’t feel it.

How could he be so stupid?  Why did he believe she had liked him?  Was it simply because he had wanted it so bad?  Why had he said anything…it was obvious in hindsight how he had merely deluded himself into believing.

Obviously she had no clue it was coming.  He understood her reaction but that didn’t make it hurt less.

 

He shivered as he sat on a park bench by the river.  He had no clue how he had got here.  The snow continued to fall as he stared out across the slushy surface of the river.  Snowflakes, he thought.  Each one unique and special.  A work of art wrought by nature, one by one they fell into the river and lost what they were.  Became nothing more than filler, the river was billions of separate snowflakes.  What they were meant nothing to the river

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Solitude, my dearest friend.
You're my never-ending end,
You're my pill I never swallow,
My sweet fear of tomorrow.

Souless hand that grows within,
Animalic tasteless sin.
In my numbness I recall
Someone pounding at my door.
As I open, shaking hands
Sitting at my heart's commands.

As I gaze upon the darkness
Someone reaches from afar
Stealing from my precious jar
Dirty keys of my soul's latches.

Who are you, I ask with fear.
Why you wander in the night?
In my soul, what did you find?
What's your name, you filthy smear?

Who am I, you ask in anger.
Do you think that I'm a stranger?
Don't you recognize the tears?
Can't you see inside my fears?
I'm your heavy, tired hands
Loneliness, when with your friends.
I am you, my dearest friend.
Solitude, the wind, the end.

 

Edited by EduardR
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Watched a concert with Adele last night she did at Radio City Hall in New York last Fall.  Her voice and lyrics I think touch many of our souls.  But in this one song, it seemed to speak towards how some of us depressed people might feel.  Thought I'd post it.

A Million Years ago

By:  Adele

Lyrics

I only wanted to have fun
Learning to fly learning to run
I let my heart decide the way
When I was young
Deep down I must have always known
That this would be inevitable
To earn my stripes I'd have to pay
And bare my soul

I know I'm not the only one
Who regrets the things they've done
Sometimes I just feel it's only me
Who can't stand the reflection that they see
I wish I could live a little more
Look up to the sky not just the floor
I feel like my life is flashing by
And all I can do is watch and cry
I miss the air, I miss my friends
I miss my mother, I miss it when
Life was a party to be thrown
But that was a million years ago

When I walk around all of the streets
Where I grew up and found my feet
They can't look me in the eye
It's like they're scared of me
I try to think of things to say
Like a joke or a memory
But they don't recognize me now
In the light of day

I know I'm not the only one
Who regrets the things they've done
Sometimes I just feel it's only me
Who never became who they thought they'd be
I wish I could live a little more
Look up to the sky not just the floor
I feel like my life is flashing by
And all I can do is watch and cry
I miss the air I miss my friends
I miss my mother I miss it when
Life was a party to be thrown
But that was a million years ago
A million years ago

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I've been working a lot.  Have been exhausted.  Need to read all that I've missed.  I've been somewhat struggling this week.  Have just been physically tired and it's poured over mentally. This thread is so awesome, so many people now, such a cool way to connect with people here.


All Of The Love

Let me say this scream, rinse, and repeat,
Getting a little lonely on nobody street,
Bombs in the street pray for the heat,
Got a killer on a beat no wish for peace,
Stab you with bullets use you like a gat,
Fat man's heart attack electric strap pack,
Feel the mania fact react to all of your lack,
Louisville bat blood face on the back rack,
Serving life in a penitentiary hero of the century,
My degree is awfully missing glee in disease,
The enemy of my enemy is still my ****ing enemy,
See me practically erase the best of your fallacy,
I got no love,
Do you feel me?
If you read this,
Mother **** everybody,
Alien suicide vest explode everyone like a sun,
Praise to the God gun our petty war has begun,
I'm just a psycho ***** having fun this isn't done,
**** where you're from we'll be the last decision,
Hundred bullet barrel clip hot news hit on the vic,
I break the walls down treat it just like a big pit,
I'm the biggest s hit you're just a stick time to get it,
Hard fit just like my d**k and I gotta spit but very sick,
I'm living my existence like Heaven isn't even true,
My two middle fingers to the sky what's that say about you?
Faiths are oblivious to the ride or die violent few,
I've prayed for death but if lived forever I would die on cue,

  

 

Edited by glfinding
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We struggle to fly without wings

To rise is an impossible task
A sisyphean trial
Still we aspire to touch the sky
To reach stars and suns and space
To hold angels and light
Such heavenly distractions

Meanwhile we are sinking

Deeper into the settling soil we slip
Not noticing until it's far too late
When the earth tears beneath our feet
And swallows us whole
Down down down
Into darkness and despair


The descent into hell is easy

 

 

Edited by SugaredSloth
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The white flame grows in my heart like                                                                                             

an overgrown oleander garden,                                                                                                 

and I am no fool to fall on those tender, blanket-covered                                                             

flowers.                                                                                                                                            

I am his actress, his nirvana wrapped in black, dying wings.                                                       

Completed with sandalwood, violets odes, hints of patchouli.                                                           

A crumbling statue, with a cracked face,                                                                                            

with lines like tears that are streaming down openly.                                                                                                

A smile that looks somewhat out of place, fake,                                                                            

if he only cared to look close enough.

 

Edited by Inis Mona
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When love is lost,
The world goes cold,
Dreams fade and wither,
Life grows old.

A prison of existence,
Another day expired,
This constant lonlieness,
Tired.

Without your support,
The deamons seem stronger,
Im loosing myself,
Cant battle much longer.

An inevitable parting,
I know was my fault,
The pain of old wounds,
I rubbed them with salt.

Scared of your love,
I pushed you away,
The truth always being,
I wish you had stayed.

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See me:

 

See me:

See me as I am

not what you want to see.

 

My inner self

the one you know,

is being held prisoner.

 

Held prisoner by a

negative force within me,

making me present myself

as someone I'm not.

 

I'm tired of playing this masquerade.

I need my friends, family to

see all is not well,

and at least show some validation.

 

I wear my heart on my sleeve,

isn't that enough.

Or do I have to make a complete

fool of myself for you to believe.

 

My compass is broken 

and I need positive direction.

Without that from those I love,

I fear I will parish, my words

always left unspoken. 

 

 

 

 

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5 hours ago, profound_cumulonimbus said:

When love is lost,
The world goes cold,
Dreams fade and wither,
Life grows old.

A prison of existence,
Another day expired,
This constant lonlieness,
Tired.

Without your support,
The deamons seem stronger,
Im loosing myself,
Cant battle much longer.

An inevitable parting,
I know was my fault,
The pain of old wounds,
I rubbed them with salt.

Scared of your love,
I pushed you away,
The truth always being,
I wish you had stayed.

Great work p_c.  I can relate so well as I have pushed so many loves away   I am scared of love because I have been conditioned not to trust it through failed and hurtful relationships.  You never really get over them and can have many regrets or second thoughts.  This verse really spoke to me:

Without your support,
The deamons seem stronger,
Im loosing myself,
Cant battle much longer.

You nailed it right here.  We are at war with ourselves a battle many people we love just don't understand.

Thanks for posting this.  And welcome to the writing group.

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On 6/27/2016 at 6:59 PM, SugaredSloth said:

I think our thoughts are weirdly in sync today, AA. I like that one very much! 

Here's one I wrote earlier today. 

 

Light and Heat

My head is lost above cloudy skies 
Searching constellations for 
A star I can touch
Though none are within reach 
I will one closer

I want to feel fire
Even if it burns 
Even if it scars me
Even if I burst into flame

I need to feel something bright again
Instead of the dull edge of insanity 
The way it presses into my skin
Like teeth or nails unyielding
Never deep enough to 

So set me alight 
Make me burn 
Send me to the sky 

The work used to be whole

And complimented she was for unearned genetic elegance

Until she burned to the ground

Defying infinite ambient pools of ice choking her about

Burned down from within

And all the fake was shed in that winsome combustion

And she scarred the eyes of the predatory smoke peddlers

Who mistakenly thought she had lost

And she illuminated the souls of the truthful who dared put on a blindfold to see

Smoldering, truthful Ash

Never go back to whole, dear soul, broken art of the sunken battleship SS

Crash into the rocks often and guard the harbor

So that others may be inspired to keep swimming

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What happens with the ocean
When you turn your head around?
Will it turn silent, for a moment?
Wind, the compass of ages, will shatter away?

And if you close your eyes
Will you feel the breeze whispering in your ears?
The waves, kissing your feet?
The salt, melting on your lips,
The siren's distant song.
Will your heart feel the unheard
Call of the dolphins?
And if you do
Can I be your ocean?

Can I be the distant skies
That look so far away but if you gaze deep enough
You feel carried away towards the burning stars?

Now open your eyes:
What do you see?
What do you feel?
"Open my eyes? I've never closed them."

 

 

Edited by EduardR
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I want to say thankyou to everybody here for posting, this is all new to me and I'm struggling alot but I find comfort in reading your words in a way I don't really understand. I'm lost as to how I put myself out there but I wanted to try and write something just to at least show some appreciation. So thankyou.

'In a world where I so often see grey, you make me feel like colours. Life gets crazy, I get tired, discouraged, p****d off. People have given up on me, forgotten about me. I try to remember the ones that stayed, who never gave up on me, believe in me throughout all the plot twists. Most of all I try to never stop believing in the magic of my soul.You all make me believe that I am not broken, you are all the season with which beautiful words are spoken.'

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Beautiful work gemz. Thank you for joining us, and I hope you continue to visit/post. 

 

Everyone else, sorry for my absence and lack of posting, but know my thoughts are with you. Take care.

 

I really like the work thats being produced. Mona, Arnold good stuff. Ed, thanks for continuing to post your works. Ha, as always you are the soul of the thread, thank you.

Edited by Abandonedalways
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Fighting a so called greatness in me,

My own so called exiles from the stars, beyond the ones I carry within, for the gifts I bear are not mine to keep.

As I give myself the room to breathe while cutting off the air supply of unwilling needs, perhaps I do know exactly what I am capable of. Perhaps I sell myself short while knowing exactly what I am doing.

But what is the point of greatness until you find the breaths.... willing and wanting to breathe.

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I believe the best pieces of art (music, literature, paintings etc.) have all been created by people who were suffering and at the lowest point in their lives. Maybe this is due to the fact I can relate to it but I find it interesting nontheless.

I used to create, well I used to try to create music and I made 2 good songs I felt were really good (for me) when I was at my lowest point in my life. I might start again soon because the process of creating something was relaxing and made me feel good even if the end product was bad. Its hard to get motivated though.

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Sorry I've been MIA lately. I missed this thread and all the people who have posted such great stuff... I was just in a really dark place for awhile there. Started taking Prozac recently. I avoided antidepressants for a long time out of pride I guess. Finally accepted I can't handle all this on my own. Only been on it a week but its been... kinda weird. It makes me incredibly tired all day... but I guess it's kinda quieting my head a bit. I'm not sure how I feel about it. This song is sort of about that. It rhymes less than my usual work but it just fit better that way.

 

THE FIRST PLACE

Swallow it down

Selling salvation by the pound

Now it comes in tiny milligram bottles

So tell me

What made you so damn proud in the first place?

 

Call me in the morning

When you’re done with the mourning

Over all the things that you were denied

You’re crying

But they were never yours in the first place

 

So when the hell will you grow up?

Tell me

When the hell will you grow up?

(x2)

 

It’s just an imbalance

Of your chemical allowance

You’re a dollar late and a day short again

It wasn't enough

For you to buy a little peace in the first place

 

It’s fogging your vision

Trying to bridge the division

Between you and all the rest of us

But then again

You were just misfit toy in the first place

 

So when the hell will you grow up?

Tell me

When the hell will you grow up?

(x2)

 

Just keep talking out loud

Just keep running your mouth

Yeah, someone’s sure to hear you now

But I wonder

Did you have anything to say in the first place?

 

It’s all ringing empty

I would help if you let me

But you’re an island unto yourself

If you don’t wanna get better

Just what the f*** was wrong in the first place?

Yeah, just what the f*** was wrong in the first place?

Edited by Dog
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May this be the day we lose,
The day sun will pass the test.
The day you'll cover every bruise
In pale light, a child's abused
And the heart that never rests
Will allow for you to use
Forgotten paths through loneliness.

With your dirty little hands
You approach my stucked-in mind
And as noisy as it gets
The piano that you play forgets
I gave up without a fight
So the chorus won't come out right,
And today I'll burn the sets
That play colors for the blind.

May this be your lashing out
While synapses snap in morbid tension
Soul is raging, instincts shout
And the time will turn around
In this last rehearsal session
I will learn how coldness mount
And transforms this desert station
Where no train will lurk about.

May this be my passing out.

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Broken Things

What good is a broken window?
No protection, no insulation from the cold,
Only jagged edges that cut when you reach for them.
What good am I?
What good am I?

What good is a broken chair?
No comfort, no support when you need it most,
Only a cloth-draped skeleton waiting to be thrown out.
What good am I?
What good am I?

What good is a broken heart?
No warmth, no love given nor received,
Only the cold, dead center of a girl who used to be alive.
What good am I?
What good am I?

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I am sitting in the dark
With my eyes wide open
In the distance, a dog's bark
In my heart, a Noah's Ark
Softer side, that's not yet broken.

I am dirty anyway
Spoiled with constant desilusion
I'm a wh0re's motel's ashtray.
Tainted sheep lost in confusion.

I am partially distracted
By that spider in the corner
But my mind is like a magnet
Smelly hands of someone's mourner.

I don't know what really matters
I am traveling too fast
I feel dizzy from the blast.
I don't know what really matters
I am dizzy anyway
But your words are bl00dy dampers.

You keep talking, I keep pushing
We now dance under the moon
In a schizofrenic crushing
I become the lonely loon.

Edited by EduardR
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Slide into my mind like broken glass. 

Icey is the reflection of a love so often taken.

Follow the lines and frown lines. 

You'll find emptiness devine. 

 

Pills and chemicals prop me up.

So that I seem just a little,

A little more tough. 

 

Let me rattle your brain.

Sticks and stones cast no shamexception.

Only truth and guilt,

Punishment mistook.

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  He sits in the corner always, his back exposed to the world. He stares at the two walls merged before him, trying desperately to fight the fear of things creeping up behind him, yet too afraid to ever turn around and keep watch. His hands are cold and clammy, he realizes he is naked but does not mind. Wishing the walls would open and pull him in, a safe womb of shadows to hide him but the walls are as solid as his fear, he closes his eyes tight enough to keep the tears in. 

  Many hands have touched him, many voices have whispered his name, but nothing can move him. He breathes deeply and focuses on his exhalations. Each one drawing him closer to his final breath. He is content with discontent. He wraps his arms around his legs and leans forward. He notices that his body is that of a small child, and his heart races. His mind is full of 30 odd years of life, but he only remembers the hardest times.

  He is malnourished and frail but not for lack of food. He is cold but not for lack of warmth. He is tired but not from lack of sleep. He is dead but not from lack of life. Soon he will fuse into the walls, the only memory of him a dark shadow on the wall and floor where he hid from all things. A stain that no coat of paint could ever cover and were the house to be demolished, his shadow would remain.

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