I'm not trying to be Van Gogh but it's something that attracts me to him. Different chances, different circumstances but always the same pain. Rejection, frustration, unstableness of feelings, failures. I could just give it up, lose my head in a snap and I will feel no more of these. Seems like, there isn't much left [not even enough] to fight for anymore. Only estrangement and indifference is constant. The biggest deals for you are always the pettiest to the others. They wouldn't understand. They never would.
No matter how many people you surround your self with, everyday's always a man-for-himself bout. I tried to go as fast as they do but I'm always left behind. Cutting my hair lessens but does not entirely cut the connection I have with depression. I can be happy but hopelessly hanging at the edge of being sane at the same time. Let me play Vincent for tonight. I am nowhere near suicide but I'm just on the brink of losing grip. I've read my life through reading his and now I understand. I understand how others could not. I always have the choice but I'm still trying to hold on. For how long? Only God knows.
It's not always dismal, not when I've found new friends. The others may be going soon but I still have some and even more when they go. My new friends are more and better friends than THEY can ever have in their lifetime; Every moment spent with them is a lifetime of memories and sweet distractions made. THEIR type is not the kind of person who can find friends like mine. Now I am taking pride of my own pride. I love my old friends and my new friends.. I will love them the same way I love my other friends. And for those who do not belong to the FRIEND category... Goodluck! Who are they? They are human but too insignificant [for me] to recognize, just knowing they exist would be enough.
I will be back to my euphoric self soon. When? Soon Enough.
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