How many

In the end how many would imagine one night you sat by your bed dull, lifeless, desperate, about to lose it, crying involuntarily, throwing your head back staring into the lamp light half alive, disconnected, phasing out, asking yourself how to function in the world, who you are, how not to feel this anymore, what are you feeling, when will it be over, how to make it go away, should you die and what power that be will reap you in your sleep? Happiness is just a push and pull away. In the end how many would relate if only they knew? They will never, unless – unless you are seen for who you really are, or they find your journals. More often than not people don’t know until they get to lament over you.

Care for your people. Being held and seen impacts mine, yours and their lifes.

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