Chill.
There's a certain chill unique to empty houses. Even when you're in Cairo's notoriously warm April.
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There's a certain chill unique to empty houses. Even when you're in Cairo's notoriously warm April.
By Bai: She was everything and I was nothing. Of course, I was everything to her too. That's how love stories work. But I was nothing to myself. As most teenagers are.
I cry and cry, A tsunami's begun. I drown in my tears. A complete no-one. Scars cover me Both Inside and out. And I can conclude, That's not what life is about.
Chapter1 As she dragged herself out of bed that morning, trying to remember what she had to do before she left for work, she couldn't help but think about how much she would rather not go and would...
I have a selection. Of tiny packets. Bottles. That rattle. Trinkets. Coated in colours. Sugars. Hiding bitter flavours. Maybe. A different combination. Will cure. The evils. Make me normal.
"I want to do this. PLEASE let me do it!" Sobbing Monica mumbled into her boyfriends chest. "I know, baby. It's hard. But I don't want you to give in. You're stronger than this.
He kissed her by the pond. He pointed out all the seaweed and told her that it was as thick as a rope. They made it into a swing. He pushed her back and forth on it as she laughed.
You wake to the sound of your own breathing. It's too early to rise from your bed--so you stare at your ceiling. You're tired still and your heart beats too slow or too fast.
Is depression an illness. I mean they say it is and i have it but.. Well its not terminal cant kill me.. Well unless i top myself. Im medicated yes and it helps i guess.
God, I hate myself. I look in the mirror, and stare at myself in disgust. I look at the mascara under my eyes and down my cheeks. I look at my body and think how it will never be good enough.
Chapter 2. I sniffled, and then held up my blades to the light. Stolen from my dads razor, they were so sharp I could probably slice through plastic with them.
Fuck It- one of the most liberating phrases in the English language. But I grew up a chronic Worrier, unable to harness the advantages of not giving a shit.
The usual random shit that makes my life complicated that nobody understands or cares about, whilst pretending to give a minimal amount of intrest and just generally not giving a fuck till its too...
they don't know that i come home and literally TEAR apart my bedroom when i'm mad. the posters off my walls, the sheets off my bed, my homework.
My soul is blackened, Dark like an eclipse of the sun. I wish it'd never happened, My life, it used to be fun.
The desperate cries for help from a man, are those hidden behind the words of a status update or a tweet. Insecure of his emotions and unsure of who to trust beyond his own mind.
The sadness is engulfing me The walls are closing in on me Sadness, hurt, and anger permeating the air around me Choking me with their intensity until I'm on my knees No sounds to be heard other than...
I never thought of myself as evil or malice. I never got in the way and tried to be polite. Yet why did everyone pick on me.
My alarm clock rang for about five minutes before I turned it off. I grudgingly got off my comfy bed and headed for the shower.
Positive thinking produces positive emotions which, in turn, produce positive actions.
Don't you know that I'll be around to guide you. Through your weakest moments to leave them behind you. Returning nightmares only shadows. We'll cast some light and you'll be alright for now.
I often sit and think of the past, of who I used to be that girl used to have it all it was everything she could see.
This is a real story, one time in Maths class my friend asked me to meet me on the night at seven, along with other mates, when we all gathered Alistair announced how he had testicular cancer, We all...
I lost all hope that day. It was a ritual, like a bully and his friends backing a child into a corner, there I was, alone.