Some nights are made for torture, some for reflection, some for the savoring of loneliness, some for a fight. What’s your nights made for?..
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Sometimes I want to die. I really do. I plan it and I think about it all the time. I am obsessed with the idea of being anywhere but here. Getting to live a different life. This one, it feels so damn empty. I look for things to make me feel better, but they all so temporary and the emptiness comes back. It does not go for long. I wish I could see to a tomorrow. The days are getting so dark now. Facing my thoughts is a harder battle than I thought. I am grateful to communities like the artidote. I am grateful for support systems and counsellors. I am glad that I write. No matter what, I write. When it is out there, I never realised what that meant. I did not think that people would read and respond. I feel a little less empty. I love words…
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